


who broke the coffee machine?

by howardlink



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Fluff, Humor, M/M, aka an office au, allen becomes an intern at a rich company, and deals with his superior kanda yuu, its gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:03:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8059162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howardlink/pseuds/howardlink
Summary: nobody said becoming an intern at a wealthy company and battling with your department chief and superior, kanda yuu, would be easy.





	1. preliminaries

**Author's Note:**

> lmao let me start by saying i love yullen a lot, and i also love office aus a lot, so i was like fck lets mix the two together
> 
> my comprehension isnt great and i had to read over this 1000 times before posting so if there are mistakes pls shout at me bc what the fuck, do i even try. i hope this is even readable??
> 
> also i have a problem when i write allen? idk i think i make him a little too passive and he's a sassy little shit so idk man i need to step up my game
> 
> throws myself off a bridGE HERE GOES NOTHING

Lacing his fingers together reverently, the company head leaned forward in his shiny leather chair and leaned his forearms on the mahogany desk he sat behind.

“You see, here at the Black Order we are avid about learning. Have you learnt anything new recently, Allen Walker?”

Knowing it was in his best interest, Allen refrained from visibly cringing. Were the years slaving behind a scratched up desk in a stuffy classroom not enough? To hell with saying that year after year of Allen’s teachers refusing to believe his cries of _‘my dog ate my homework’_ because _‘really, that old chestnut?’_ meant nothing. Timcanpy was, in fact, a golden retriever with a very overwhelming appetite. 

He shuffled his feet slightly in thought. “Well, uh, this morning I learnt that I can hit the elevator button forty times in ten seconds.” Truth to be told, Allen didn’t exactly count the exact amount of times he hit that button but really, he had better things to do than count each press when he was running late for his internship with dried tea stains barely visible on his trousers and shoelaces untied.

The company head, Komui Lee, perked up in interest. “Fascinating. Welcome to the family! I’m sure you read the internship description in full? There’s not much to know regarding internships, I’m afraid. We’re all about being fast-paced from the get-go! Besides, interns are usually the ones who slave away downstairs doing the dirty work for the higher ups. Are you any good at getting on your knees?”

“W-what?! I didn’t read this in the description-”

“Getting on your knees and _begging_ , Allen. As in you’ll be begging for mercy by the time you finish.”

Swallowing, Allen laughed meekly. “That’s a little subjective…”

A minute of dead silence passed over the room.

“I was joking,” Komui whispered. “That was a joke.”

“I suppose I’ll have to get used to those.” As if he didn’t have an ounce of humour in his scrawny body.

Komui’s eyes glittered proudly. “It’s lovely to have you here. As for placement…ah! That’s right. There’s space on the fourth floor, that’s where the main dealings of the business take place. An office job can be quite the—” he jumped up from the desk, slamming his hands onto the surface. Coffee spilled from the mug on the desk, dark splats running down the matte wooden face. “—Experience. Sorry about that.”

Face slack, Allen raised his eyes from the trailing drips of coffee to the head’s face. “No, it’s quite alright. May I ask for some guidance to where I need to be? I get lost easily,” he made to move his hand to scratch behind his head, but stopped halfway. “Really. I got lost on the bus today, and it didn’t even have a top deck.”

Komui’s mouth fell open.

“Uh, sir, that was a joke.”

“Oh! But anyway, that isn’t a problem! Let me call up my secretary.” Komui picked up the phone from the corner of his desk, paused, and then put it back down. 

“Aren’t you-”

“LENALEE! LENALEEEEEE! YOUR BROTHER NEEDS YOU!”

Frantic footfalls made their way to the large office and the door swung open, hitting the wall. 

“Brother! What now?” A young woman, no more than a year or so older than Allen himself, stood in the doorway with a clipboard tucked under her arm and widened eyes. She was dressed smartly, with a neat bob that appeared green-hued in the natural lighting of the wide, wall-length office window.

Komui straightened up his tie and stood tall. “Can you take the intern to the fourth floor?”

Blinking, Lenalee turned to Allen and smiled. “Sure, anything else?”

“Brother wants a new coffee, dear.”

Pivoting on her heel, Lenalee looked back at Allen. “Let’s get going then. I’m Lenalee, Komui’s secretary and younger sister.”

Allen walked out the doorway, shutting the office door behind him. Moving in step at Lenalee’s side, he smiled gently. “I’m Allen Walker, the new intern. Can you tell me about the place?”

As they waited for the lift, Lenalee turned to face him. “The office is…unique. In its own way. Brother sees us as a huge family, and I agree. Most of us are really close. The work varies, as expected in an office but the people are friendly and always willing to help out so you won’t need to worry about anything. After all the time I’ve spent here, this place is like my home away from home.” She looked away, smiling a little wider. A hand went behind her back and pulled gently at her black skirt, the fabric constricting and coming out again in gentle ruffles. “If you’re anything like me, I think you’ll like it a lot here. How long are you staying?”

Allen looked at her thoughtfully. “My internship in six months, I think. Although if I like it as much as you, maybe I’ll apply for an actual job here. The pay looks great,” Allen sighed. “And with the life I’m living, it would definitely help me keep up with my debts.”

Mouth widening a little, Lenalee gasped. “ _Debts_? Allen, is everything ok?” 

Confused, Allen tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?” In realisation, he let out a small bark of laughter. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, everything’s fine. But my demon guardian makes a habit of getting us into debt with his excessive alcohol consumption. It was a lot worse when I was younger, but now I’ve learnt how to put my foot down and force him to share some of the responsibility.”

At the ping of the elevator, Lenalee smiled warmly and breathed a small laugh as she stepped in with Allen at her side. She pressed the fourth floor button and leaned against the chrome bar. “Good. I’d hate to see one of my new friends in trouble. Regardless, if you ever have any trouble with your debts please tell me. I’d always be willing to help you out.”

“Don’t worry about it! I appreciate the support, but I’ll be fine Lenalee.”

The elevator came to a halt, sounding as the floor had been reached. Stepping out into the hallway, Lenalee looked over her shoulder. “Come on, Alle-”

“LENA!” Someone shouted from further down the hallway.

Lenalee barely had time to look before being tackled into a bear hug by a mass of vermilion and crisp white that moved so fast Allen’s eyes couldn’t even focus long enough for him to realise it was _a person_ and that they were looking directly at him. 

Which was a bit awkward, really. A stranger clinging to Lenalee whilst staring directly at him? It was all a bit strange. Allen wasn’t one to constantly revel in his own creature comforts but this office seemed like it would be the gold medallist of the Awkward-lympics. It wasn’t like Allen wasn’t used to the stares, as pitiful as it may seem. Growing up isn’t so smooth when you have stark white hair, an ugly red scar on the left side of your face and a deformed, darkened arm. 

“New guy! My name’s Lavi and I know everything and anything about this place dating back to its opening, even at my tender and young age. For example, I bet you didn’t know that the Black Order were overspending a couple thousand dollars a month this time last year and Komui was knee deep in debt-” Lenalee’s clipboard came down on the top of his head.

Frowning, she pulled his hands from around her and dusted herself off. “Don’t go saying that stuff about my brother, Lavi. Honestly,” Lenalee reddened and crossed her arms, pouting slightly. “There are some things you just can’t say out loud.”

Laughing loudly, Lavi threw his arms around Lenalee and Allen, pulling them close. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it! There are just some things that are taboo. Like using more than one creamer at the coffee machine, sleeping with a higher up, admitting out loud that _Kanda Yuu has killed a man—ack!_ ” Lavi’s sentenced abruptly ended in a deathly choking noise as he was pulled roughly from the back of his white shirt.

“You wanna fucking repeat that?”

A rich, deep voice sounded from behind Allen. In hindsight, he should have realised a man with a mouth that filthy in an environment like this would be troublesome. For had Allen understood this well enough at the time, he wouldn't have been pushed to the floor by Lavi’s heavy body.

Groaning, Allen lifted up his head, and then tried to lift up his torso only to find that he couldn’t. Of course he couldn’t when Lavi had him pinned to the dark black and grey carpet. He tried his best to push Lavi off as it had become unbearably uncomfortable for him but to no avail, Lavi’s body mass won out. It wasn’t the first time Allen had been crushed like this, for Timcanpy was a huge dog and seemed to do it every time he entered the apartment.

 _‘This makes it slightly bearable,’_ Allen thought. _‘Just pretend he’s Timcanpy.’_

“Tim…you’ve gotten a lot bigger, huh,” Allen muttered dreamily, embracing Lavi lightly with his eyes closed.

Kanda deadpanned. “What the actual fuck is he doing?”

“ _Kanda!_ You can’t just use a person to knock out another person.” Lenalee reprimanded, hands on her waist as she leaned in angrily.

“He was annoying me.”

Lavi snorted, lifting his head out of the crook of Allen’s neck slightly. “Is this any way to treat your best friend, Yuu?”

“I’m not your fucking best friend, and don’t use my first name or I will _cut you_.”

“He wouldn’t,” Allen whispered, trying to hold Lavi at arm’s length. 

Lenalee dropped down to pull Lavi to his feet, giving Allen room to breathe. “That’s the thing, Allen. _He would_.”

Allen pulled himself up to crouch on the carpet, rocking on his heels as he looked up at the person towering over him. His figure was shrouded in darkness as the one dubbed Kanda blocked the artificial glare of the corridor lighting, casting a deep black over his eyes. He figured he should’ve taken English as a major in college because this man’s essence was filled with darkness and Allen would be damned if that didn’t account to something.

“Who’s the beansprout?” His blackened baritone sounded.

“His name’s Allen. He’s an intern in this department,” Lenalee explained. “Play nice?”

Leaning down, Lavi grasped Allen’s wrist and, underestimating the strength behind his pull, nearly made Allen topple onto him. “Watch it!”

Kanda glared mercilessly at Allen. “Clumsy idiot.”

“My name’s Allen, Yuu.” Unaware of the gasps behind him, Allen surged forward and offered a handshake to Kanda.

But the asshole completely ignored it.

“Don’t call me that. And who the fuck wears gloves indoors? You cold or something?”

“Maybe your ice cold heart and chilling aura gets to him, Yuu,” Lavi chuckled, “I propose a group hug for the one with Yuupothermia.”

“Shut up, rabbit. And it’s Kanda, beansprout,” he turned on his heel and called over his shoulder without looking back, “get it right.”

Lenalee huffed. “That Kanda…he never changes. Anyway, that was a funny trick you played there, Allen. But if you really want to survive here, I wouldn’t want to get on Kanda’s bad side.” Upon seeing Allen’s eyes widen, she immediately stuttered, “N-not that he’s a bad guy! Kanda’s just…bad at talking to people. He’s real soft inside, I promise.” Lenalee smiled sweetly at him. 

“He seems like death itself has manifested into a human being,” Allen shivered. “He _cuts_ people?”

Lenalee laughed. “Only if you really get to him.”

“Our little Yuu over there,” Lavi began, bending slightly to accommodate his and Allen’s large height difference, “is somewhat of a sociopath. When people get on his nerves, he tends to be a little violent, as you witnessed. But the real deal is when he gets Mugen.”

Startled, Allen whispered, “Who is Mugen?”

Bending over, body wracked with faint chuckles, Lavi gasped in air as though it was so funny he couldn’t even speak. “Mugen is,” Lavi coughed out a short chuckle, “an antique fountain pen. Yuu likes to stab people with it, in their hands, shoulders, backs, anywhere really. And it’s real fucking funny. _Oh_ , Allen it’s so fucking funny. Until you get home and realise the ink is a total pain to get out of your shirt. I can’t even count how many shirts I’ve thrown away to this day.”

Snickering slightly, Lenalee comically hit Lavi in the arm with her clipboard. “You wouldn’t need to throw out so many shirts if only you would stop getting on Kanda’s nerves,” she said. “I wouldn’t know, though, since Kanda wouldn’t use Mugen on me. My brother would be onto him in no time.”

 _“YES YOUR BROTHER WOULD, LENALEE,”_ the intercom screeched out.

Lenalee rolled her eyes. “Quit eavesdropping.” Smiling, she sighed and turned to Allen. “It was great seeing you today, Allen. I’ve got to go attend to my brother, no doubt he’s waiting on that coffee.” With a small wave, she was back in the elevator.

With a groan, Lavi checked his phone. “I’ve gotta get a move on. Gramps is gonna have my head if I don’t hurry up. Want to come with me, Allen? You’re in this department now.”  
Beaming, Allen nodded. “Of course! I hope I can get along with everyone.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine! The essence of vanilla! The purity of a white wedding gown! A virgin in a brothel! It would be hard to not get along with you,” Lavi dramatically exclaimed. “I dunno about Yuu, though.”

Cocking his head sideways, Allen quirked up an eyebrow. “What do you mean, you don’t know about me?” 

“No—I mean,” Lavi cut himself off to bark out in hysteria, “ _Yuu_. Christ, that never gets old.”

“I suppose not,” Allen muttered dryly as they came to a stop at two double doors.

Throwing open the double doors, Lavi cleared his throat. 

“YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NEW INTERN! HIS NAME IS ALLEN AND HE IS—” Lavi halted his words. “How old are you?” he stage-whispered. His audience, consisting of the entire department (which wasn’t too many people), were attentive and eyed the intern curiously.

“I’m 19.”

“HE IS 19! SUCH YOUTH IN THIS DEPARTMENT OF HOSTILITY AND—”

A slam was heard further up the floor, followed by heavy footsteps that rained down in deep thumps over the carpet authoritatively. 

“Will you—” he breathed in sharply, “ _shut the fuck up?!_ ”

Standing in front of the glass-panelled door to the department chief’s office was none other than the personification of death himself, Kanda Yuu. 

His legs, clad in smart, slim black trousers, were spread shoulder’s width apart, and his arms were crossed over his chest. Long hair was tied into a tight ponytail, reaching down to the middle of his back (Allen wondered how long his hair really was), long strands at the sides as straight bangs reached just above his eyes. And those eyes, those terrifyingly complex eyes with their tenebrous nature, slight blue tincture and hard pupils. Effectively, he was creasing the elbows of his pristine white shirt and rumpling his silk cobalt tie in his stance, but he was furious. And since Kanda was _so, undeniably furious_ as he made his way on polished leather shoes to Allen and Lavi, Allen realised it was probably not his smartest moment for his only thought to be _‘would my hair blend in with his shirt?’_.

“Get the fuck back to work, rabbit,” Kanda said calmly, although the entire department knew that pulsing vein in his neck begged to differ. “ _All of you_ , get back to work.”

In an instant, the entire department turned back to their monitors as if the commotion had never occurred. Lavi turned on his heel, whispering a short sorry phrase before legging it back to his desk. Shuffling around in his place, Allen looked anywhere but in the direction he could feel the hard, hateful glare coming from.

“Oi. Beansprout. You’re one of mine, then?” _‘There he goes again,’_ Allen thinks, but he’s already got on the guy’s bad side so he gives him the benefit of the doubt.

“One of yours? Excuse me?”

Kanda rolled his eyes, shrugging slightly. “I mean one of my department’s, dumb ass. I’m this department’s chief, got it?”

Aghast, Allen, focused his eyes away from Kanda’s gaze. “O-Ok then.”

Grimacing, Kanda eyed him suspiciously. “Why the fuck are you still wearing the gloves?”

Allen cleared his throat. “Personal reasons.”

Scoffing, Kanda stilled, eyes still on Allen. It was making Allen uncomfortable, and this day was perhaps the first day in his life to make him so uncomfortable on many separate occasions. If every day was going to be like this for the next six months, he’ll be damned. Maybe he could’ve become an intern in a casino, or somewhere he could cheat and lie his ass off and get away with it.

 _‘Or maybe Cross has influenced me too much,’_ he concluded.

“Beansprout. Fucking look at me when I talk to you. You disrespect your superior this much? It’s not looking good for you.”

“It’s Allen.” Facing him head-on, Allen was complacent in his mannerisms, squaring his (admittedly small) shoulders and craning his neck to look up at the _damn skyscraper_ that was Kanda Yuu. Yuu Kanda. His superior.

Kanda hissed. “Quit the attitude, it doesn’t suit you. And sit the fuck down, there’s a desk,” he looked over Allen’s head at the room in front of him, “right there.” He pointed to a cubicle with a free desk and monitor, opposite a young woman with light brown hair.

“Thank you, Chief Kanda,” Allen said, no longer wanting to appear submissive in front of the dominant man. 

“Tsk.” Kanda immediately walked back to the office, shutting the door with an angered fervour. 

Having placed his bag onto the desk in the cubicle, Allen walked around and sat in the cheap, plastic chair. It was a little underwhelming, having seen the plush leather of Komui’s desk chair and having the illusion of comfort crushed by a generic, black-wheeled chair. Leaning back, he wheeled out of the cubicle slightly, moving so that he could look out through the wall-length glass window in its impeccably clean state. 

Allen had always been appreciative of the little things, like the vast city scape, the picturesque blue sky and mercilessly glaring sun beating down ray after ray of irrevocable heat onto the city. He closed his eyes on the scene, content with the warmth of the sun on his face. 

_‘I made it, Mana,’_ he thought. _‘I made it to my first internship. I’ll keep walking.’_

Opening his eyes, Allen looked at the face of his department chief in the reflection of the window and yelped. A few laughs circled around the office, much to his own chagrin.  
“If you’re done pretending to be a girl in a romance novel, you’ve got work to do,” Kanda said before throwing a stack of paper onto his desk.

“T-that’s too much!”

“Why the fuck are you complaining? You’ve certainly got the time for it, Christ, I watched you look through that damn window for five minutes straight from my office.” Kanda grimaced, glaring down at Allen. “Although, you look incompetent. Try to actually _do some work_.”

Annoyed, Allen looked up through his frown, pouting slightly. “How do I log into the computer?”

Waving his hand about dismissively, Kanda raised his eyebrow. “It’s in the paperwork somewhere. You’ll find it.”

Dubiously, Allen flicked through the pages, alternating between glaring at the other man’s retreating back and the pile of paper after paper on his desk. The paper, he noticed, was actually of a high quality. Allen had only ever seen the cheap cartridge paper used universally, but this paper was of a much higher standard. That much he could tell, as embarrassing as it seemed.

“Stupid fancy paper. Stupid angry superior,” Allen muttered, “Stupid _Mugen_.”

Turning on the monitor, Allen wiggled the mouse as he watched it boot up. Even the monitors were expensive, he realised. And they had to compromise with the chairs? His ass would be flat by the time the day ended at the sad hour of six o’clock. 

Glaring at the pile once more, Allen sat up in his chair and glanced over at Kanda’s office. The man had the perfect view of Allen’s desk from his office, meaning Allen probably wouldn’t get away with anything. Searching his eyes through the glass windows, Allen flinched as he made eye contact with Kanda, who look over his monitor at him, chin resting on his curled up hand.

 _‘Get to work,’_ Kanda mouthed.

Allen sighed loudly.

“’Get to work’, he says,” Allen yawned. “’Get to work.’”


	2. calendar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which allen gets accused of sneaking around with his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> waaaa its monday, yes, but i wrote this from saturday to sunday and i was going to edit it last night but technology hates me (hisses) and i edited this 5 times in 4 hours but it kePT FUCKING UP idk if any of you saw the chapter i posted yesterday?? ao3 fucked with my format so i deleted it bc it was 3am and i was like fUCK IT
> 
> anyway, a lot goes on in this chapter and i think it might be a little less readable than anything else, also this chapter lacks as much humour as the first bc im not funny. haha. i used up a years worth of jokes in chapter one okAY---
> 
> rolls of a cliff, enjoy yourself

Sighing, Kanda slumped in his luxurious leather chair, slim fingers on the mouse as he stared at the monitor and scrolled down his inbox. Meeting after meeting had made itself known ever since he had gained a higher position in the company.

Carding a rough hand through his dark strands of hair, Kanda downed a few gulps of his coffee as he read through his emails.

 _Good morning, Mr Kanda Yuu,_ it read. _It is with great honour that you have been invited to a conference on 14th July._

Frowning, Kanda turned to the small calendar on his desk, a gift from his father. It was a stupid little thing, a do-it-yourself calendar that had been emblazoned with picture after picture of Kanda and his sweet-lovely-caring- _annoying,_ Kanda concludes, family. He had only kept it because the size seemed appropriate and it wasn't like anybody other than Kanda himself would see it. Currently, the month of June was being displayed, thick strokes of black ink tearing through each box until the current day, the 17th. 

Kanda’s eyes shifted to this month’s photo, a ridiculous, ageing pink-framed Polaroid of a newly eleven year-old Kanda sitting on a black sofa, begrudgingly wearing a rainbow-striped cardboard party hat with monkey ears on the sides which comically contrasted with his distasteful glare and familiar dark eyes. The ponytail was significantly shorter when he was younger, but his hairstyle more or less remained the same. His brothers, Daisya and Marie, sat on either side of him, with Daisya’s face caked in white with purple streaks under his eyes (Kanda never understood his brother’s love for face paint), paintbrush poised at Kanda’s cheek. Marie was smiling sagely at the camera, a forkful of buttercream cake in his right hand which was slightly obscured by a gaudy sparkly heart sticker that had been clumsily placed on the photo (probably Daisya’s doing, Kanda realised).

Lips quirked slightly, Kanda flicked the page over and uncapped Mugen, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he circled the box of 14th July. Clicking his tongue, he turned back to the monitor and began to read through the rest of the email.

_We would be delighted to have you as a guest speaker and representative of the Black Order._

Kanda hissed. _‘But why the hell did they ask me?’_ He had found it ridiculous that of all of the department heads they could have chosen, including his adoptive father, they had chosen Kanda himself.

_Refreshments will be available on the conference day. Included with this email is an invite which you will need to print out. You may bring a plus-one._

_With kind regards,_

_Wisely Kamelot_

Fingers fumbled for his coffee mug as Kanda leaned back in his seat with a groan. The scorching hot liquid was welcome in the early morning haze, pillowing his tongue with bitter accents of ground coffee. His eyes darted around his office, hands wrapped around his mug which was now empty but still retained warmth. His fingers revelled in the small comfort of the heat before it dissipated into his skin. As he leaned forward in his seat, Kanda picked Mugen up from his desk and penned _'conference'_ in neat, slanted handwriting on the day circled before flipping it back to the current month.

Kanda eyed the picture dubiously, the one from his 11th birthday. His family were a bunch of annoying idiots, but they genuinely cared for him. Kanda, and he would _die_ before saying this to anyone, cared for them just as much. 

“Are you _smiling?_ ” 

The voice rang true, drops of dew and fog in the lazy morning haze shining in comfortingly from the wall-length window.

Looking up, Kanda met eyes with the ridiculous looking intern. 

Allen Walker’s snow white hair stood out crystalline in the dull colours of the office, bone white among charcoal blacks and ash greys. His skin was pale, almost ghostly in the tender morning sunlight. Pale fingers tapped neatly at the back of his other hand, too careful to be careless. Every inch of Allen Walker was beautiful, really, but Allen Walker’s face annoyed Kanda the most. Plump, pink lips were quirked up in mirth and cheeks riddled with slight hints of baby fat appeared soft, as if clothed in pads of enamoured cotton. The crimson slash of his scar tumbled down the left side of his face haphazardly, skin distorted but still beautiful. His eyelashes were long, Kanda realised. Yes, they were long, lining the tops of Allen’s gentle, silver eyes and their endless entwines of naivety. 

Amusement was prominent in the raise of his arched eyebrows, eyes wide and laughing as his cheeks were inching upwards. 

“Didn’t peg you as the type to smile, Sir.”

Growling softly, Kanda slammed his mug down on the dark wood of the desk. “Well you were correct because I _wasn’t,_ ” he said.

With a small pout, Allen crossed his arms. “I beg to differ. I _saw_ it. Mr Kanda really does have a heart, he just hates to admit it.”

Sighing, Kanda ran his fingers through his fringe, hand on his forehead. “Kid, seriously, who the fuck are you to come in here after only three days of work and suss me out?”

“I’m Allen.”

Looking up, Kanda darkly met the relaxed gaze of Allen’s silver eyes. It felt appropriate, somehow. Allen’s warm grey gaze felt like it belonged in the daze of morning sun as opposed to Kanda’s hard, blackened glare, cobalt turning to ashes.

“You’re a beansprout.”

“It’s Allen,” he began, marching forward and putting his hands on the desk, knuckles clenching into the wood comfortably, “Idiot Kanda.”

Sighing, Allen stood up straight, the handle of his backpack slipping slightly on the one shoulder it hung off. Allen’s outfit was smart yet simple, a pristine white shirt and skinny black trousers with standard patent brown loafers and a red ribbon tie.

Kanda reached for Mugen, standing from his chair. The desk was wide and separated the two by a significant distance, but Kanda still towered over Allen’s small stature. “What do you want?” He questioned, although his deep voice and blunt nature saw to it that it sounded more like a demand.

Unfazed, Allen smiled slightly, eyes locked on the fountain pen Kanda was holding defensively. “Well, first of all _good morning to you too,_ and _I’m fine, thank you for asking._ ” Kanda rolled his eyes.

“You’re a cocky little brat, aren't you?” Kanda glared, although it was half-assed. _‘It must have been the coffee,’_ Kanda thinks, _‘Johnny must have tampered with it again.’_ He made a mental note to drop down to the lower floor and bully Reever and Johnny into fixing the coffee machine, because even if Johnny hadn’t tampered with it there was a problem with the internal maintenance and Kanda wasn't going to wait for the day he swallows a chunk of limescale for it to be fixed.

“I’m not,” Allen pouted, “but anyway, I didn't come here to be threatened by my perpetually angry boss and his precious pen—”

“Fuck you, stupid beansprout,” Kanda spat, coming around the desk and staring down at Allen menacingly. 

“—I came for some work,” he finished, with a glare. “It’s _Allen,_ idiot Kanda.”

Kanda sighed, capping his pen. “For an intern, you've got balls. Don't fucking disrespect me like that again, beansprout.”

_“Allen.”_

“I know that.”

They glared at each other, dark blue penetrating planes of ethereal silver. Huffing, Allen looked away. _‘Right, he’s an idiot,’_ Allen thought, _‘he won't listen until the situation satisfies him.’_ Of course he has to be the bigger person when his boss was as narrow minded as this.

“Mr Kanda,” he began, leaning on the desk and staring up into Kanda’s eyes softly. Taken aback, Kanda stopped his scrutinisation and leaned back slightly, inching back out of Allen’s proximity. “Mr Kanda.”

Hissing, Kanda leaned in. “I heard it the first time, beansprout.”

“Really now,” Allen said dryly, “because I thought you weren't smart enough to understand me the first time.”

Uncapping his fountain pen, Kanda stabbed at Allen, but the brat caught it between his fingers. 

“You’re fast, kid.”

“I have to make up for what you're not.”

Irked, Kanda leaned forward so that he was dangerously close to Allen. Allen hardened his gaze and faced Kanda head-on, unrelenting in the sudden pressure. 

“What the fuck is your deal?” Kanda hissed between gritted teeth in a tone so deathly calm, Allen felt a chill up his spine, like the long fingernail of a ghost stroking along his back. 

Swallowing audibly, Allen continued to glare, despite being scared to death. Allen hadn't been this scared since he had gone to a movie festival last Halloween and accidentally got caught up in a panic after a crime had taken place and he had to run from the police. Discreetly, Allen lifted up his right foot to rub at the bottom of his left calf as he remembered he scar he suffered from after climbing a fence with barbed wire at the top.

Allen could distinctly remember crying and running God knows where as fast as he could, lungs burning with the lack of oxygen as he heaved up each leg gracelessly in a mad sprint. _“It wasn’t me!”_ He had cried, _“Please stop chasing me! It wasn't me!”_

“It wasn't me,” he muttered.

Kanda scoffed incredulously, pulling Allen out of his reminiscing. “Yes it fucking _was_ you, you piece of shit beansprout!”

“I-It’s Allen!”

“Stuttering, are we?” Kanda queried aggressively, voice deepening as he lowered it, leaning into Allen’s personal space. “Are you scared, beansprout? You scared of me?”

“S-Stop it! You're harassing me!” Allen wailed, bringing his hands up and placing them on Kanda’s chest to push him back as he stepped back two steps himself.

“You’re—”

A high pitched yell cut Kanda off.

“I-I-I’m so sorry Mr Kanda! I’m so s-sorry and I didn't mean to interrupt! Please don't fire me I h-have bills to pay and a _family to feed_ if you count my three pet cats, oh but _they're not even my cats they just turned up at my doorstep and I couldn't leave them hungry wait—”_ An anxious wail rang out, _“BUT IF THEY WEREN’T MINE THEY MUST HAVE BELONGED TO SOMEBODY I STOLE THREE CATS! ISTOLETHREECATSMRKAN—”_

“Jesus Christ! I get it, woman, cut that shit out!” Kanda yelled, turning to the door angrily. 

“I didn't mean to interrupt you and M-Mr Walker,” Miranda whispered, white as a ghost as she lifted up a pale finger and pointed at the two.

Kanda stared between them and scrutinised Allen’s position, both hands upon Kanda’s own chest with small fingers clenched into the black material of his shirt. Growling, he tore Allen’s hands from his shirt with both of his hands as Allen stumbled in surprise. Cheeks reddening in shame, Allen looked at the floor as he squeaked an apology.

“You didn't fucking interrupt anything,” Kanda said, fury seeping through his words. “He was just leaving.”

Smiling warily, Miranda nodded hastily and stepped back on her heel. “O-oh is that so? I guess I’ll just mosey on—”

“Wait there, actually.” He was met with a frightened scream.

“Miranda, he's going to be shadowing you today,” Kanda said, jerking his thumb at the meek teenager staring at the floor in shame.

“Of course! Leave it to me Mr Kanda,” Miranda nodded fiercely, determination present in her eyes, “I’ll do my best!”

Kanda hummed in acceptance. “Right. Go, then,” he said, looking at Allen. The white-haired boy looked at the floor as he chewed on his bottom lip, cheeks obviously red compared to the rest of his pallid skin.

“...Right, Mr Kanda.” He said quietly.

Miranda stepped out of the office, nodding to Allen. “Let's go, Mr Walker, I have a client to talk to on the phone soon.”

“Of course.” He half-heartedly walked to the office door, about to pull it shut.

“Oi, beansprout, wait,” Kanda started, pushing off the desk he was leaning against and crossing his arms.

Allen looked up quickly, subdued gaze questioning Kanda’s order.

“Get me another coffee.”

—

A few hours later, Allen sat at Miranda’s desk having pulled his chair around the cubicle to share her side. Shadowing her wasn't as boring as he thought it would be, and Allen had learnt how to do a majority of the client-based work as opposed to the solitary work of copying out hard copy reports and emailing them to Kanda for approval that he had spent the past few days doing.

“Ah! _Thaaat_ hurt a lot,” Miranda said, pulling a staple out of her finger.

“Miss Miranda!” Allen exclaimed in concern. “Let me get a bandage for you.” Allen stood up from his seat, turning around to look through the office. Spotting the first aid kit on the wall, Allen walked over and grabbed it before making his way back to Miranda’s desk. There were only a few members of the department remaining since it was the afternoon and they had all gone out for their lunch breaks. Kanda had left the minute the clock hit one and (as Allen came to understand) he wouldn't be seen back in the building until the second it was two in the afternoon.

“This really wasn't necessary, Mr Walker,” Miranda’s voice wobbled as she smiled sincerely. “I do this a lot! If people always worried they'd never rest.”

Nodding, Allen’s eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. “It's not a problem but please, call me Allen. We’re friends!” He wound the bandage around her finger and trimmed it. “I’m actually very clumsy too.”

“Friends, really? Then please,” she grasped Allen’s hands tightly in her own, “call me Miranda! I’m so glad we’re getting along just fine, Allen!”

A low whistle sounded in the afternoon chatter of the office.

“Gettin’ cosy, little Allen?” Lavi bent down, folding his arms and resting them atop Allen’s snowy locks. 

“Afternoon, Lavi! Miranda’s just my friend,” Allen said sheepishly, “I’m shadowing her today. I’ve had a lot of fun.”

“Didn't know my little Allen had a thing for older women,” Lavi said smugly. “You a virgin? You seem to have a lot of experience,” he gestured to their linked hands, “in this area.”

Retracting her hands hastily, Miranda wailed, “No, you’ve got it wrong! A-Allen doesn't have a thing for me! Well, a-at least he didn't have a thing for me early this morning when I found him in the chief’s office with Mr Kanda!”

The lunchtime small talk stilled.

_“But maybe I shouldn't have said that!”_

“Oh, oh? What's this I’m hearing?” Lavi said, shit-eating grin and all. 

“N-no! It's nothing! Nothing happened!” Allen cried desperately. His face was flushed as he remembered the embarrassing monkey cling he had on Kanda.

“You're _blushing!_ Allen’s sneakin’ off with Yuu! Our little Allen! The intern!” Lavi called, bringing amused chuckles to the office’s few people.

Allen stood up in his seat. “B-but that’s a lie! I wasn't doing anything with Mr Kanda! I hate that guy!”

 _“Allen’s sneakin’ off with the boss! With Yuu!”_ Lavi cried in hysteria. Allen glared at the (whole lot) taller male’s ignorant demeanour.

_“I am not sneaking off with Mr Kanda!”_

Shuffling sounded from behind the double doors, and a muffled _“What?”_ could be heard. The doors were pushed open and an older man stuck his head into the room. He had a stubbly chin and sandy blond hair, droopy eyes wide in shock. Over his shoulder, an orange-haired man with large glasses lugged a toolbox.

“Who’s sneaking off with Kanda?” He used his shoulder to push the doors wider as he heaved a stack of paper through, dropping it on a nearby desk. 

Allen turned around, alarmed before restoring to glaring at the new person in the room. “ _Nobody_ is sneaking off with—”

“Reever! You wouldn't believe this! The intern, sweet baby Allen, was caught gettin’ cushy with Yuu in his office this morning!” Lavi laughed, walking over to the door. He picked up a paper on the pile, winced and placed it back down. “Damn, Yuu’s got a lot of paperwork to do. What's this for?”

Reever rubbed his forehead. “It’s paperwork sent over from the partner company we’re doin’ business with. Kanda’s got a lot of dealing with them now that he's a department chief in the busiest sector of the company. He’s gonna flip,” he sighed heavily, leaning an elbow on the tall stack. “Kid, it's been three days, what do you want? _A permanent job?”_

Allen’s face grew redder, face slack with shock. “N-no! I’m not shallow!”

Lavi snickered. “You mean, what you have for Yuu is _pure love?_ ” 

“What I have for him is _pure hatred._ ”

Reever tutted. “Come off it, Lavi, he’s just a kid,” he put his hand on Lavi’s shoulder, steadying his laughter. “He doesn't understand Kanda yet. The kid will learn that Kanda’s just an uptight asswad and get over it soon enough.”

Putting his face in his hands, Allen slumped back into the plastic chair. “Will you please stop this? You're making it worse.”

“Wait. Who’s the partner company?” Miranda asked.

“The fuckin’ Noahs.”

Everybody groaned. Confused, Allen leaned his head on his hand as he stared up at Reever with curiosity prominent in his silver eyes.

“What's so bad about them?” He queried, sitting up. 

Lavi chuckled, “Oh Allen, dear, sweet, naive little Allen,” he crouched down by Allen’s chair as if he were a little kid. “The Noahs are, safe to say, complete jerks. They're hard to do business with, but the asshole higher ups at Central know that they've got this industry wrapped around their fingers so they continue to partner up with them. On, like, _everything._ ”

“Isn't that incredibly obvious? The Noahs can just reject their partnership, no?”

“ _Exactly!_ It’s that simple! The assholes can just reject the obvious leech on their successes but they don't, and do you wanna know why, baby Allen?”

Nodding vigorously, Allen leaned into Lavi’s face. “Why?”

“Because they want to milk this shithole for what it's worth.” The voice rang clear in the quiet afternoon as Kanda Yuu walked through the double doors.

“Mr Kanda?”

“This company is good, beansprout. It's wealthy, famous, has a lot of links, it's got a lot going for it. Whatever shit we do to get more business from the Noahs, they can do right back. Get what I mean?” He rested his hand on the desk, leaning down to peer directly into Allen’s curious eyes. Kanda was wearing a beige trench coat that was open at the front, ties knotted at the back as he loomed over Allen holding a cardboard coffee cup.

“Y-yeah.” He hadn't realised how deep business coursed through the veins of this company. _‘I’ve got a lot to learn,’_ Allen thought. 

“Right, Mr Kanda!” Someone wailed. Reever’s companion, the orange haired man with large red-rimmed glasses, stepped forward, clutching the toolbox with both hands, mismatched bandages on some fingers brushing against the plastic red of the box. “Could you tell us the problem with the coffee machine? You wanted Mr Reever to help fix it?”

Kanda nodded curtly, shaking the cardboard coffee cup he held in his hand ( _‘from a shop,’_ Allen thinks, _‘he drinks way too much coffee.’_ ) before taking a short sip. “Ah, right,” he said. “I’ll lead the way.”

“Does it even need fixing? Maybe we should live without it for a week. You drink too much coffee, Yuu.” Lavi grinned, arm coming to rest around Kanda’s shoulder.

“We all drink too much coffee,” Reever said. 

“Which is exactly why we need the damn machine fixed,” Kanda spat out, pulling off his jacket. 

As they walked along, Reever’s companion stopped short and turned to Allen. Ducking his head slightly, he mustered up his courage and bowed a little. The toolbox made loud noises of protest at the sudden movement, unwelcome in the afternoon air. “I’m Johnny! And I work in maintenance!”

“Allen Walker,” he replied with a small smile.

“Oi, beansprout.” Allen turned in his seat, looking directly at Kanda. He cringed slightly, remembering his awful monkey cling to his (technically, anyway) boss’ shirt. 

“What?” Allen said calmly.

“Wait for me in my office. I’ve got something to discuss with you.” 

Lavi whistled. “This early in the game? Are you leading the kid on, Yuu?” He quirked up an eyebrow cheekily. “What's to be discussed?”

Groaning gutturally, Kanda glared at Lavi. “Shut the fuck up and quit using my first name, or I’ll get Mugen.” 

“Back to work I go,” Lavi said before jumping into his plastic desk chair.

For fifteen minutes, Allen waited in Kanda’s office as he observed the repairs being done to the coffee machine. He hummed a slow melody softly as he spun round and round in Kanda’s plush leather chair. It was unfair to experience how luxurious the chairs were in the superiors’ offices. Allen had actually been standing up for the first ten minutes but upon realising how long the elder would actually spend making sure the maintenance guys did their jobs correctly, Allen figured it wouldn't be too bad to laze around in Kanda’s chair. 

He extended his fingers out in front of him, eyes closed as he imagined his grand piano out in front of him, keys of black and white and white and black stretched across his vision. Allen loved playing the piano, and had taken to playing it almost every day as a tribute to his late father, Mana. 

Opening his eyes again, Allen set his fingers down and looked around Kanda’s spacious office. It was designed to be as modern as the rest of the building, wide windows stretched across the length of the wall, basking the room in warm afternoon sunlight. Kanda’s office was plain, as expected of the brooding young man. A sleek, rectangular black box was present near the monitor ( _‘That’s Mugen’s case,’_ Allen thinks) and a small amount of paperwork was present over the desk. A thick black notebook was sitting on the corner of the desk, tempting Allen to open it but he refrained for he was a) respecting Kanda’s privacy and b) too scared that Kanda would beat the shit out of him. 

But to Allen, by far the most interesting thing on Kanda’s desk was the small calendar with an old picture of someone's birthday party taped onto the current month. Intrigued, Allen leaned forward and grabbed the calendar ( _Kanda’s privacy? What's that?_ ) and flipped to January, observing each picture as he flicked through. 

There were several pictures of the same people, an old man with a large beard and glasses, a broad-shouldered and tall dark-skinned man, a man with strange face paint and someone with dark blue eyes, blackened hair in a ponytail and a distasteful glare. _‘This is Kanda’s family’,_ Allen realised. _‘He must actually like them if he still keeps this on his desk.’_

Allen paused, leaning into the crumpled photo on the month of April that appeared to be Kanda with another young boy around his age sitting on a lakeside together. He had a scar on the bridge of his nose that extended across his cheeks with his ear-to-ear smile. What shocked Allen the most was the small smile a young Kanda sported.

The caption read _‘ALMA AND YUU’_ in metallic blue marker. 

Flipping through, Allen giggled at some of the photos ( _especially_ the photo of a Halloween party in which Kanda, who looked to be the age of 18, was wearing a furry-collared jacket and tight pants complete with a fuzzy set of werewolf ears on top of his pulled tight hairstyle. Kanda’s mouth was slightly open in protest and Allen swore he could see a small set of fake werewolf canines extending over his bottom lip. As part of the costume, Kanda’s hair was messier, long strands of hair at the side of his face all over the place, and his fringe looked as though someone had been running their hands through it.) _‘He’s hot,’_ Allen thinks. _‘Holy shit my boss is really hot.’_

Allen sat up, looking around his hot superior— _Kanda’s_ office, trying to calm his mind. He took his back off the chair, turning around before gasping at the sight of Kanda’s blazer on the back of the chair which he has been crushing with his body. Hesitantly, Allen stood up and peeled the blazer off the chair. He shook out the creases before laying it back on the chair neatly. Allen started at the musky, delicious scent of Kanda’s cologne as it came through the air. Kanda smelled of freshly-cut grass and strong, bitter coffee, undertones of wood and lotus blossoms beneath his masculine scent. 

_‘It’s just a nice scent,’_ Allen tells himself. _‘I hate that guy a lot.’_

He looks around the office, determined to keep everything untouched before sitting back in the chair and picking up the calendar again with the intention to put it back in its place. Allen quickly flipped to the final page, December, to see what picture it held only to be surprised to see a blank box with the watermark _STICK PHOTO HERE_ plain to see. Across the bottom of the box and written in chartreuse gel pen was _‘Stick a picture of you and your girlfriend, Yuu!’_ complete with a slightly smudged drawing of Kanda looking angry and little solid hearts.

Allen stared at the font, eyes wide. He couldn't pin the exact reason why, but he felt upset, somehow. What did it matter to him? Kanda was an attractive, young Japanese man with a wealthy job. It didn't surprise Allen that he had a lover. Allen was almost happy that someone had actually tolerated Kanda that much.

_Almost._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think the quality of this fic is going downhill lmao and my inability to write long chapters is showing aaaha but i will try to get longer chapters done so that we can get to the romance quicker aaa
> 
> also pls leave me suggestions!!! im sure theres something in office au romance that gets u goin and if you want to see something spicy in particular happen please let me know bc (points at myself) this girl is not an idea bank
> 
> and mainly in terms of ideas i do mean bits of romance and such, not so much in the actual relationship when they get together yet (thats for lateR) so if you wanna suggest KANDA FUCKING ALLEN'S ASS i say hell yea my friend but lets get the relationship together first because right now it looks like my version of cats cradle. 
> 
> i can't do cats cradle.
> 
> lmaoooooo see you next weekend probably


	3. night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a badly-timed event opens up an interesting opportunity for allen walker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> list of excuses i have for not posting this:  
> >  
> >  
> >  
> >okAY LOOK THE PACING IS TERRIBLE LMAO
> 
> so i wrote this during the weekend but it took me so long to figure out why the pacing was so off? i can't fuckign deal w this anymore WHAT IS PACING
> 
> cries the only consistent thing in this fic is the fact that they talk about coffee TOO MUch
> 
> THIS IS IMPORTANT there are some notes regarding tyki's character at the end of the chapter.
> 
> lmao idek if i tried but basically no emphasis lies on the humour aspect of this fic bc im not funny at all, someone teach me how to use italics pffft
> 
> enjoy wEEPS

His morale was high as Allen Walker stepped into the office on Thursday morning, gloves tightly pulled over his hand in the torrid heat of the early summer. It was uncomfortable, to say the least. Although Allen was used to wearing gloves on hot days, that didn't stop his hands from feeling like he had just used them to baste a thanksgiving turkey in melted butter.

“Oh, Allen! Good morning!” He looked up at the sound of someone calling out to him and saw Miranda sitting on a couch in the lobby, glass of water in hand and legs crossed neatly. 

“Miranda,” he said breathlessly, pulling off the glove on his right hand, “good morning. You're here early, aren't you?”

Smiling, Miranda chuckled awkwardly. “Nope. I didn't go home last night.”

Allen’s face dropped. “T-that's not good! What about your health?”

“It's not a problem, I stay up late all the time. Like when I first got this job, I was so nervous that I didn't sleep for ten days straight,” she gave him a wobbly smile, “it’s just how I am.”

Nodding, Allen walked into the lobby and continued to the elevator. “Well, if you're fine, I guess that’s…” 

Allen paused. “What about the cats?”

Freezing, Miranda turned to him. “The—”

“The cats, Miss Miranda.”

“One moment please,” she whispered as she put her cup of water onto the glass coffee table calmly. Miranda immediately stood up and began to walk. The clacking of her kitten heels was eerily audible in the silence of the lobby as she took rhythmic steps towards the door.

“Miranda, do you need—”

“No,” she shook her head. “No.”

Allen stood, shell-shocked as he watched Miranda slowly walk out the revolving doors and down the street.

“...What?” He muttered to himself as he pressed the elevator button. Allen waited in silence, eyes on the ceiling as he lay slumped against the wall. To pass time, he counted the tiles lining the floor, eyes darting left and right in concentration. Allen had thought about what Kanda said that Wednesday afternoon, about the company being successful and wealthy and the more he thought about it the more he realised how true it was. He may not even have been allowed an internship at the Black Order if he didn't have Cross to vouch for him.

His legal guardian, Cross Marian, was one of the higher ups at the company and was notorious for disappearing for extended periods of time and coming back as if he was never gone. Cross’ infamous spews of _‘idiot apprentice!’_ and _‘here’s another batch of invoices’_ were permanently ingrained into Allen’s memory to the point at which he broke his back paying off those very bills to this day. Of course, Allen knew Cross was a slave driver, but for the most part he did a lot for Allen after his adoptive father, Mana, died.

The thing Allen struggled with most was trying to decide if slaving over a sink at _Unnamed Pub #467_ and working his ass off to pay for Cross’ deeds was better than being homeless on the streets. Nonetheless, it was obvious to Allen that Cross at least cared to an extent otherwise he wouldn't be standing on squeaky clean tiles in an office building waiting for this _damn_ elevator that didn't seem to be coming.

“Oi, beansprout, are you an idiot?”

Allen didn't even turn his head to the familiar sonorous voice of his department chief and superior, eyes trained on the floor as he let out a baited sigh. 

“I’m as much of an idiot as you are,” he muttered, glaring at the polished tiles, “Mr Kanda.”

Kanda scoffed. “Yeah, right. Then can you read?” His footfalls clacked along the floor, deeper and more somber in tone than Miranda’s or even Allen’s own. Shiny, black shoes came in sight at the tips of Allen’s peripheral vision as Kanda stalked up to him.

Looking up, Allen forced a smile on his face. “Of course. Again, why?” Kanda opened his mouth, but Allen quickly leaned forward and lifted up a hand. “I see. You're too stupid to read your own paperwork.” His eyes met Kanda’s, dark blue cutting through his ethereal silver hauntingly. 

“And you’re too stupid to even _read the damn sign.”_

Sure enough, Allen looked forward, startled at the magical appearance of a sign on the elevator doors. For Allen digresses, as he was certain that sign wasn’t there before with its striking bold, red letters reading _‘OUT OF ORDER’._

“Just like your brain,” Kanda whispered. “You know, there have been other interns before you but I don't think any of them were half as naive as you are.”

Kanda held his calculating gaze on Allen for a moment before snorting and stepping closer to Allen. Gulping, Allen shifted where he stood against the wall nervously as he stared up at Kanda, who was too close for comfort. He was on edge, his single gloved hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck apprehensively only to stop short when he noticed Kanda’s incriminating stare aimed at it. 

He snorted. “You’re still wearing the gloves, beansprout?”

“They're comfortable,” Allen insisted, “and expensive.”

“Wish you could say the same for the rest of your outfit.” Allen scoffed, offended, before looking down at his cream knitted sweater and grey, slim trousers. 

“That’s uncalled for! We can't all be young, handsome and wealthy bosses like _some people,”_ Allen glared, staring Kanda down defensively. His state grew perplexed at the growing smirk on the other man’s face.

 _“Young? Handsome? Wealthy?”_ Kanda snorted, “If anything is uncalled for here it’s your shitty, misplaced compliments.”

Flustered, Allen pushed off the wall. “T-that’s not what I meant! You're just a jerk!”

Kanda hummed contentedly. “No, you don't think I’m a jerk, you think I’m _young, handsome and–”_

“Oh, drop the arrogance,” Allen hissed with fury.

Narrowing his eyebrows, Kanda smirked and surged forward, pushing Allen back to where he stood. Allen’s back pressed against the wall, gloveless hand clenching closed as it made contact with the smooth, cool surface. A hand, larger than Allen’s own and slightly darker in colour, slammed against the wall beside Allen and caused his eyes to widen in surprise.

“No,” Kanda seethed, _“you_ drop the arrogance. How many times have I fucking told you not to disrespect me?” He glared incriminatingly at Allen for a moment, observing the deer in headlights look he sported. Fear was prominent in his eyes, glassy with perplexity.

Allen said nothing. “On my word, you could be out of here any minute,” Kanda continued, lessening up his glare a little. “Don't fuck around.” He stayed in position, blocking Allen’s dead still form against the wall with his own body. 

With glassy eyes, Allen looked up. His silver eyes were desolate, mouth falling into a quivering frown. “I’m sorry,” Allen said, crestfallen. Immediately, Kanda’s body slackened, eyes wide with regret. His hand clenched with anger at himself by Allen’s head as he looked away from Allen, embarrassed. He regretted losing his cool so easily, especially after asking so much of the young teenager the evening before. Kanda leaned back sheepishly, giving Allen his space.

“No,” Kanda said, causing Allen to look up. “It’s my fault for losing my cool so easily.”

His words made Allen lighten up a bit. “Funny, because from what I hear you tend to lose your cool easily all the time.”

Kanda glared down at Allen through his fringe. “Tsk. Those guys just annoy me, especially that idiot Lavi,” he hummed in dismay, “though you seem to rile me up the most, beansprout.”

“Hm?” Allen raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowed in confusion. They were no longer glassy, Kanda realised. 

“You know, you remind me of this dog my stupid adoptive father used to have. It was a little thing—”

“I’m not _little,”_ Allen huffed.

“Fuck you, I wasn't finished speaking. Anyway, the damn thing used to be all bark and no bite. Always running around the place and shitting wherever the fuck he wanted. When you confronted him about it he’d just whine all the fucking time. The worst thing about it was it used to just fucking _bark.”_

Allen snorted. “Dogs do that, Mr Kanda,” he said, “and wait. I’m not like that!”

“You’re all bark, beansprout.”

 _“I’m going to shit in your office.”_ He sneered.

Whistling, Lavi entered the building, feet clad in leather boots as he stomped happily down the lobby floor. “Mornin’ Yuu! Allen!”

Kanda turned away from Allen and towards the peppy redhead. “An annoyance has entered,” he hissed. “Oi. Weren’t you meant to be here an hour earlier?”

Sheepishly, Lavi rubbed the back of his neck as he put his free hand on Kanda’s shoulder. “I was a little busy,” Lavi said. “And anyway, you said it was _best_ if I came an hour early. Not that I had to.”

Kanda groaned. “You're making shitty excuses now.”

“But it worked, right?” Lavi grinned. He spun on his heel and faced Allen, clutching his gloveless hand tightly. “Mornin’ baby Allen! You're here too?”

Allen nodded. “Not sure why I was chosen when I’m just an intern…” He trailed off.

Lavi clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I asked him to,” he smiled widely. “It's good experience for someone like you. Especially since you're probably gonna join this company permanently anyway, Cross bein’ your guardian and all.”

“Huh,” Kanda muttered. “I didn't know that.”

“Even though you're meant to be my guide?”

“Excuse me for not being a stalker,” Kanda cut in, “I don't give two shits let alone one about your life story.”

“Guys,” Lavi cried, “enough of the fighting, it's been four days for Allen and you're constantly going at it. We can't survive this for six months!”

“He started it,” Kanda and Allen said in unison.

“Don't copy each other,” Lavi wailed, “you're leaving me out of the fun.” He waltzed over to the stairway door, opening it.

“Tsk. You can have plenty of fun upstairs in the fucking meeting I’m about to hold so get your ass up there,” Kanda kicked Lavi into the stairwell, holding the door open behind him. “Oi, beansprout, get over here.”

“I’m on my way,” Allen replied as he picked his backpack off the floor and followed him suit.

—

“Dude,” Lavi whispered, “you’re kidding me.”

Kanda slammed his hands on the conference table. “Do I fucking make jokes, Bookman Jr?”

“Don't call me that!” he wailed.

“Now you know what it's like,” Kanda said. “Bitch,” he added for extra measure.

“But Yuu, seriously! That's why you called us here? It's a bit sudden, don't ya think?”

“Don't call me that,” Kanda hissed. “And it's not like this was all up to me. Do you think I’m the number one hard-ass around here?” Lavi opened his mouth. “Don't answer that,” Kanda cut in.

“So who was behind this?” Allen asked.

“That would be Mr Lvellie,” someone replied. He stood up in his seat; blonde hair tucked into a neat plait that came down his back, lustrous in comparison to his light skin. As he turned towards him, Allen comically noticed the two moles on his forehead. “Mr Walker, my name is Howard Link; direct subordinate of Malcolm C. Lvellie who happens to be one of the heads at Central.”

“Central to what?” Allen asked, eyes locked on Link’s forehead.

“What? It's just what it's called.” He rubbed his forehead self-consciously. “Please don't ask me.”

“But you're the _direct subordinate,”_ Allen persisted. He looked around the room and met eyes with Kanda who looked annoyed, Lavi who held in laughter, Lenalee who fiddled with her jacket sleeve and Miranda who sat up straight.

“I don't know what that—” Link cut himself off. “Please stop staring at my mole.”

“Wait. _‘Mole’?_ You mean plural, right?” Lavi asked suspiciously.

“Oh, of course,” Link said dejectedly. “I keep forgetting. You see, a few days ago I woke up in the morning and went about my routine as per usual. However, when I washed my face I noticed something unusual happened. My mole, yes, _singular,_ had become my _moles.”_

Lavi cracked up. _“You’re shittin’ me! It mole-tiplied?”_

Uncomfortable, Link cleared his throat and straightened his tie as he ignored the laughter in the room. Even _Kanda_ chuckled into his wrist, Allen noticed, as he watched the Japanese man through his peripheral vision. He raised his hand, gesturing for silence with a smirk on his face.

“That wasn't a joke.” Howard Link whispered.

The room was dead silent.

“So!” Lavi said. “Run through the agenda again, Yuu!”

“A fucking lunch party with the damn Noahs.”

“I-I really don't think I’m going to be u-useful to you,” Miranda said nervously. “Really. I’ll just get in the way! Why don't you take Mr Reever?” 

Lenalee shook her head. “That won't do. Reever’s stuck up top with my brother since he likes to run away from his responsibilities. Reever even tied him up.”

Nobody said anything.

“Because he likes to _run away,”_ Lenalee elaborated.

Everyone murmured in understanding.

“In any case, Miranda, I don't think you're going to be in the way,” Allen piped up. “Besides, aren't you the oldest one here? We could use a chaperone.”

Kanda snorted. “Speak for yourself, kid. I’m not a scrawny and weak teenager like you, I’m twenty-three years old. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Yet you let a dog shit all over your house,” Allen smiled. “Sounds like incompetence to me.”

“You little—” 

“Stop it! Lovebirds! Don't let your lovers’ spat interfere with your work life.”

“Fuck you,” Kanda hissed. He jumped out of his seat, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “It's 11:38am. We meet at the front lobby at two. Meeting dismissed.”

—

“What do you want?” Kanda called out as he heard the knock at the door. He sipped from his mug of coffee ( _well made,_ since he forced Johnny and Reever to fix the machine up to his standards) and looked through the glass wall and at the stupid intern, namely Allen Walker, who stood there with a dumb look on his face and his hand still poised in a knocking manner.

Allen opened the door and politely stepped in. “Hello, Mr Kanda.”

Said man sneered. “Don't _‘hello, Mr Kanda’_ me. Answer the question. And no, you're not getting a permanent job.” _‘Yet,’_ Kanda thought. He hadn't assessed the beansprout’s abilities yet, although he admittedly thought the beansprout was interesting to be around. Definitely made office days worth looking forward to.

“I didn't even want to ask that,” Allen glared. “I wanted to ask if we could maybe—” A dreadful, echoing rumble sounded in the room.

Kanda stilled, Mugen positioned over the paper he was in the middle of signing. “What. The. Actual. _Fuck?”_

Blushing, Allen clutched his stomach. “I’m _really_ sorry! But I have terrible eating habits and we usually go for lunch at one but because of the Noahs we’re going at two and I’m—” his stomach gurgled, “—really hungry.” 

Kanda eyed the teenager dubiously, putting Mugen down lest he lose his shit and throw it at the stupid kid’s face. He couldn't help the smirk that came to his face at the thought of the beansprout trying to dodge the pen, trying to scrub the ink off his baggy sweater, flustered face red with anger as he shouted at Kanda with his white shirt sleeves rolled up—well, not that. The brat never wore short sleeves and kept his gloves on, specifically the one on his left hand. Said brat stood there, face red with shame as he waited for Kanda’s response.

“So, you're hungry?” 

Allen nodded. “Famished,” he said. Kanda sighed, because really, what _fucker_ said the word ‘famished’ in this day and age? The kid was asking to be pummelled into the ground, and Kanda wondered how he had managed to get by all this time in the custody of a crazy asshole like Cross. He’d have thought a bastard like him would beat the shit out of his charge for being such a fucking—such a fucking— _beansprout._

“You want an early lunch break or something?”

Allen nodded again. 

“Kid, suck it up until two.” Kanda picked up Mugen and went back to the expanse of paperwork covering his desk. The damn Noahs were causing him so much work strife and he’d be damned if the brat thought he could fuck it up because he was _hungry._

In a flash, Allen rushed up to the desk, clenching his knuckles into the firm wood as he stared at Kanda in desperation. “Please! Mr Kanda, you don't understand! I told you, I have terrible eating habits and if I don't eat enough on time it’ll seriously affect my performance.”

Agitated, Kanda stabbed Mugen in the gap between Allen’s index and middle finger, intending to scare him. _‘And it worked,’_ he thought smugly. “Beansprout, it's not like you do much anyway.”

“I can do lots! _Lots!_ All this paperwork on your desk, I can help you finish it this evening if only you’d _let me replenish my energy!”_ Allen pleaded.

“How will you be able to eat your own damn lunch _and_ the Noahs’ lunch proposal? They're a fuckin’ fancy bunch, kid, it'll probably be three fucking courses and everything. You like wine?”

“I can eat a lot,” Allen shrugged, “and I don't drink alcohol. You know, me being underage and all.”

Kanda got out of his chair, pulling his wallet from his bag and slinging on his jacket. “Fine, let’s go.”

Allen blinked. “Why're you coming?”

“Tsk. You think trust you? I need to make sure your beansprout ass isn't slacking off.” He walked over to the door and opened it, holding it open. “Ladies first.”

Huffing, Allen walked out the door. “You're one to talk, Mr Kanda. What do you use, _TRESemmé?”_

Kanda shut the door behind him. “Cocky little shit, you're the one who's the same height as a girl. You're as tall as Lenalee, for God’s sake.”

“Am not! I—”

“Where’re you guys goin’?” The two halted their bickering and turned to the the voice, the annoyingly suggestive declaration of Lavi Bookman Jr. 

“Out. The fucking beansprout wants to eat,” Kanda said curtly as he walked over to the double doors, slinging one open. 

“Eh? You would _never_ do this for me!” Lavi yelled, offended. His exclamation attracted the attention of a few others milling about in the office.

“Yeah, I wouldn't, because not only can I not fucking stand you but you didn't come on your hands and knees to my office having a damn mental breakdown over your _famished_ stomach,” Kanda growled, holding open the door.

Allen gasped. “I did _not_ do that! I’m just hungry!”

Lavi gasped too. “So now the truth comes out! Stop picking favourites, Yuu!”

“Beansprout, _get out,”_ Kanda hissed. Huffing and muttering to himself, Allen did as he was told and walked out into the hallway.

“Can I come at the very least?” Lavi pleaded.

“Tch. No way. You're just gonna slack off and avoid doing any work. So sit the fuck down.” Kanda slammed the door shut.

“Have fun on your date,” Lavi muttered grudgingly, sitting at his desk.

“Idiot! Don't get all moody, learn how to stand rejection. How are you ever going to get a girlfriend if you just can't take a no?” Bookman yelled at his stupid grandson.

“Gramps,” Lavi groaned, “Kanda’s totally leading little baby Allen on.”

Miranda smiled. “Maybe Allen’s okay with that?”

The cohort within the office stilled and turned to her.

_“Or m-maybe not!”_

—

 _“Watch it!”_ Kanda yelled, grabbing Allen’s wrist and pulling him behind him hastily as a car sped past where Allen once stood.

“Mfh– _mohffy!”_ Allen said through a mouthful of sweet pastry.

“God damn it, beansprout, I didn't buy you that shit so you could stuff your fucking face with it. Chew your goddamn food,” he hissed as he pulled Allen across the road by the wrist.

Swallowing, Allen scowled as he tried to keep up with Kanda. “I said sorry,” Allen huffed before taking another bite. _“Beshides,”_ he swallowed his mouthful, “I didn't _ask_ you to pay for my food.”

“Yeah, but you took forty years trying to find your stupid wallet, beansprout.” Kanda knocked his knuckle against the smaller boy’s forehead. “Idiot.”

“It’s Allen,” he replied. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can sit down,” Kanda replied, training his gaze over their surroundings. “There’s a coffee shop three blocks down and a diner about a street away; take your pick.”

Allen shook his head, smiling. “Diner. You drink too much coffee,” he said.

Kanda smirked down at Allen smugly. “Doesn't matter to me. You're buying your own fucking food.”

The pair walked down the street, shoulders bumping as they bickered, walking in step with each other. Kanda was tall, with legs much longer than Allen’s own which made it difficult to keep up to his brisk stride at times. Allen figured skipping back into step when he was lagging behind wasn't too bad, if he had to deal with it all the time. _‘Not that something like this will ever happen again,’_ Allen thought, turning his head to look at Kanda’s side profile. His stern superior’s side profile was just as handsome as the rest of him, jawline sharp and hair swaying gently like ribbons in the summer breeze. 

“Oi, beansprout, you listening?”

Allen halted his thoughts. “Huh?” He said aimlessly. 

Scoffing, Kanda glared to the side as they walked up to the diner. “I _said,_ this place does good milkshakes. Not that I’d know, I don't drink that stuff. I've been here with Lavi too many times than I care to count, and he eats— _drinks_ that shit up. I thought you’d like to know, since you're a fucking kid and all.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m nineteen,” Allen said insistently, but smiled when he realised that despite Kanda’s surly demeanour, he had good intentions in his words. “But I do love milkshakes. Maybe I’ll get five different flavours and drink them all in front of you to make you jealous.”

Kanda clicked his tongue, opening the door and holding it open for Allen to step inside first. “Idiot, the only thing that'll do is make you incredibly sick.” Allen hummed and stepped in, nodding at Kanda as he stepped in behind him and shut the door of the diner.

“I don't know, Mr Kanda, I already told you about my terrible eating habits.” Allen said ominously as a young woman dressed in a checkered yellow and red shirt with a plain, lacy mustard yellow skirt and red apron came up to them and pulled up two menus from under the counter.

“Welcome to The Greatest Diner on Earth! Home of The Greatest Burgers on Earth, The Greatest Drinks on Earth, The Greatest French Fries on Earth, _The Grea–”_

 _“The Greatest Fucking Air on Earth,_ for fuck’s sake we get it,” Kanda snapped, “just get us a table for two.” Allen, dismayed, hit Kanda on the shoulder. _“Please,”_ he spat out venomously, eyeing the younger boy.

Startled, the woman looked blank. “O-of course! Just follow me, The Greatest Waitress on Earth!”

“Oh my fucking God,” Kanda muttered.

“Do they do this all the time?” Allen whispered as they walked over to the small booth they would share.

“No,” the woman smiled over her shoulder. “We recently had a name change. We’re now _The Greatest Diner on Earth!”_

Seeing as Kanda was about to lose it, Allen quickly put his hand in the crook of the elder’s elbow and pushed him into the booth. “Thank you, miss.”

She nodded before turning away and leaving the two on their own. The diner wasn't completely full, seats filled with a good amount of people for a Thursday lunch time. They were seated towards the back, among the much more luxurious, colourful, plush mock leather seating booths in favour of commonplace wooden seats and tables. Kanda and Allen’s booth was circular in size, seemingly a little big for two people.

“What are you getting?” Allen asked, looking over his menu and to the left, at Kanda. The Japanese man studied the menu blankly.

“What I normally do. Soba.” He flicked the menu to the next page and observed the drinks selection. “I’m also getting a black coffee.”

Allen sighed. “You're being _boring,_ Mr Kanda. And you drink too much coffee, this is exactly why we didn't go to the coffee shop.”

“Fuck you, I didn't come out with you for you to insult my choice in meals, which is perfectly fine _thank you very much.”_ Kanda hissed, jerking his leg to the right and nailing Allen in the shin.

“Ow!” Allen flinched. “Jerkanda, quit it!” He reeled his fist back and hit Kanda in the chest, only to curl up and cradle his bare hand in his gloved one, because _holy shit Mr Kanda is ripped._

Kanda hissed. “You're stronger than you look, but I can still beat you any day.”

Allen laughed, still holding his right hand tightly. “You're such a _kid,_ Mr Kanda. You call me the kid but you're always trying to one-up me. You're already rich, brooding and unwillingly popular, haven't you already won?”

“Quit calling me that in public, it's weird.”

“What's weird?”

 _“‘Mr Kanda’,_ it’s just weird. People will think it's some unorthodox form of power assertion.”

“Wh—sorry, then, _Kanda.”_

He smirked that _stupid, pretty smirk_ Allen was getting used to. “Beansprout.”

“Bakanda.” Of the few Japanese words Allen had learnt from watching crappy anime reruns on Cross’ television, ‘baka’ was the perfect one to use on Kanda.

“Tsk. You dare insult me in my mother tongue?”

“My mother tongue is English,” Allen pointed out, “you insult me in it all the time.”

Kanda put pressure on the teenager’s elbow when the waitress turned up to their table. “Hello there! Would you like to order after having the time to look at The Greatest Menu on Earth, or do you need more time?” She leaned in and whispered, “it can be kind of overwhelming.”

“No, we’d like to order,” Allen smiled before turning to Kanda. “Kanda, you first.”

“Soba and a black coffee.”

“No additional sugar or cream on the side?” The waitress asked.

“If I wanted additional sugar or cream, I would ask for additional _fucking_ sugar or cream.” Allen kicked him under the table. “No, thank you.”

Stunned the woman turned to Allen. “And for you, sweetie?”

Clearing his throat, Allen referred to the menu quickly. “Uh, can I get one of everything? And five milkshakes, all different flavours and for dessert let’s see…” Allen’s eyes darted over the menu, unaware of the incredulous looks directed at him by both Kanda and the waitr— _The Greatest Waitress on Earth._ “Hm, for dessert I don't think I’ll order much...can I get twelve bowls of ice cream? Three scoops each, chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. Thank you!” He held out the menu for the waitress to take.

The waitress coughed into a closed fist. _“Could you maybe repeat that?”_

—

“Stop looking at me like that. I told you I had terrible eating habits,” Allen said as he watched the various waiters and waitresses bringing plate after plate to their suddenly not-so-large looking booth.

“You didn't specify that you eat enough to feed an army of heavily pregnant women,” Kanda said in disbelief. “The bill is going to be half a fucking thousand dollars at the _least.”_

Allen waved his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, I’ll use Cross’ card.”

“Tsk. Brat.” He reached for his chopsticks and broke them in half before picking up his mug of coffee and taking a sip. 

“I don't get how you can drink so much coffee, Kanda,” Allen said. “Your girlfriend must get so tired of you tasting like coffee.” At that moment in time, Allen could’ve slapped himself for two reasons; one, for revealing that he knew about Kanda’s girlfriend after snooping— _accidentally seeing_ Kanda’s desk calendar, and two, for imagining what Kanda would taste like if one were to kiss him. Which was totally stupid. Because who would want to kiss Kanda Yuu apart from the arrogant bastard himself?

Said arrogant bastard snorted, taking a languorous drink from his mug. “She’d have to deal with it. Besides, I don't even have a girlfriend.”

Allen froze. _‘But what about what the calendar said?’_ He wanted to ask, but he had been so secretive about the calendar he had seen the day before specifically because Kanda would roast his ass if he found out he’d snooped around a little. And that's when it hit Allen. Poor Allen who was so incredibly stupid. Because stupid, stupid Allen only just realised that in the very month of the calendar he was thinking of, _there was no picture attached._

“That explains so much,” Allen said to himself.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean? I _know_ you don't have a girlfriend; you're too much of a beansprout and you look like a girl yourself.” Kanda said defensively.

“I didn't mean it like that! But whatever, you're right.” Allen dug into his food, and then paused. “I don't look like a girl.”

Eating up his soba, Kanda ignored him. 

About twenty minutes later, Allen was beginning to finish up and Kanda was already finished and on his second mug of black coffee.

“This is so good,” Allen moaned in delight as he slurped up the vanilla milkshake. It definitely beat the chocolate, Oreo, strawberry and peanut butter ones he had previously consumed. “I totally saved the best for last.”

“Tch, you really are a kid. Idiot beansprout,” Kanda smirked. “Maybe this is why we need Miranda to chaperone you at the Noah’s banquet. She can wipe your mouth clean and blow on your food before spoon-feeding you.”

Allen huffed. “You’re only saying that because you haven't tried it, you said so yourself. Here,” Allen turned his tall milkshake around and shoved the straw into Kanda’s unsuspecting mouth. Angrily, he slurped some up before pulling the straw out of his mouth. 

“It’s too fucking sweet,” he whispered before shoving the straw back into the beansprout’s stupidly confused pout. Allen was in shock because a) how the fuck could he have forcibly shared an indirect kiss with his (technically) boss, and b) how could the guy _do it back._ Flushed slightly, Allen leaned closer to Kanda. 

“You’re a very bitter man, Kanda.” 

Kanda scoffed. “What, you wanna try my coffee?”

“If it’s as bitter as you are, I don't,” he replied as Kanda pushed the hot mug towards him. “I like my coffee creamy, sugary and...Starbucks.”

“You hipster little dipshit,” Kanda said as he moved next to Allen in the booth and all but shoved the mug into Allen’s hands. “This is real coffee.”

Apprehensively, Allen picked up the mug and peered at the dark colour. It was dark, so dark that Allen could see himself poorly reflected in the rippling surface, hued brown as he took in the bitter scent. It smelt like the kind of coffee Allen could always smell on Kanda, the kind that wafted off his blazer the previous day, the kind that he could smell right now on the man sitting next to him, thighs touching and knees knocking.

He surged forward, taking a long sip and closing his eyes to appreciate the taste. As expected, it was too bitter. It nearly made Allen gag, but he refrained because not only did he not want Kanda to see him as weak, but he didn't want to lose the moment. He opened his eyes, cheeks pink as he curled his hands around the mug and drifted in and out of love with the far too bitter coffee; Kanda’s drink. 

He hummed in content as he stared down at Kanda’s mug in front of him. “How was it?” The elder’s deep baritone queried. 

Allen smiled and turned to Kanda without putting down the mug. “It's just like you. _Really, really bitter.”_ Kanda huffed and sat back in the red seat, thigh rubbing against Allen’s own. Hesitantly, he lifted up a hand and ruffled Allen’s hair. Perplexed, Allen looked up and paused in surprise at the closeness of the Japanese man. His dark blue eyes were trained on Allen’s warm grey eyes, the gaze within them no longer piercing but comfortable. 

“Drink all of it,” he whispered. Allen lowered the mug into his lap as he cupped it gently, head leaning back to rest comfortably on Kanda’s shoulder, hair licking the skin of Kanda’s sensitive neck. Instantly, he lifted his head up as though he never did it.

“I-I don't even _like_ it, Kanda.” Allen’s pallid face was obviously red and his heart quickened a little at his superior’s small smirk.

“Bullshit, you stared at that coffee like Juliet did to Romeo, like Mary Shelley did to Percy, like Dorian Gray did to _himself.”_

“Screw you, Bakanda.” Allen said, raising his hand to catch the waitress’ attention. “Can we get the bill?”

Needless to say, the bill was well over half a thousand dollars, but it wasn't like Allen hadn't seen figures like that before. Turning to his bag, Allen rifled around for his wallet and turned back to the counter only to see Kanda typing his pin into the card machine. “W-what are you doing?!” Allen cried, eyes darting between Kanda and the bill repeatedly. “That was all my stuff…”

Kanda shrugged. “It's not like this is ever gonna happen again, beansprout. Let this be my one treat to you because I swear to God I am not doing this again.”

The waitress smiled and stared between the two. “That's so cute. He's such a good guy,” she said dreamily.

“He's more of a jerk than he is a good guy,” Allen interjected, “but he has his moments.” He smiled up at Kanda, who rolled his eyes.

“You take a brat out to lunch _one time_ and he becomes the cockiest little shit on the block. Get off your high horse.” 

“Jerk.”

“Beansprout.”

—

“This place is unbelievable,” Allen whispered as the limousine pulled up to the extravagant house of the company head pulling the strings of the Noah corporation, nicknamed the Millennium Earl. A fountain was planted in the centre of the enormous circular driveway, a clamoured embellishment of stone cherubs clustered together as the centrepiece. Crystalline water poured through holes in the figure in neat arcs and overlapping in a decorative fashion. The hedges and lawn were trimmed neatly and emblazoned with various shades of a variety of flowers, and a gardener could be seen on a ladder clipping a large hedge into the bust of the Earl himself.

The limousine pulled up outside the entrance, which was framed by Parthenon-style pristine white pillars all around. Men in suits rushed to open the doors and bowed respectively. “Welcome to the villa of the Millennium Earl.”

“I'm in awe,” Lenalee whispered. “Do you think Lvellie’s house looks like this?” She tugged on Link’s sleeve. Self-consciously, he straightened his tie and blazer.

“Not as splendid as this, I've been there too often. This company is out of our league.” 

A man stepped out of the heavy oak doors with wooden carvings at a skilful level of intricacy and raised his arms in mock welcome, like the conductor of an orchestra. 

“Welcome to our Lord Millennium’s very own villa,” he said, smiling widely. He was an attractive man who was about in his early to late twenties, long, curly midnight blue hair tied into a loose ponytail and cascading down the back of his double-breasted black suit. Similarly to Allen, he wore white gloves incongruous to the season. “My name is Tyki Mikk and I shall be guiding you to our lunch banquet. It's _so_ very flattering to have you flounder in the Lord’s driveway,” he smirked, “but it’d be best if we all make our way to the banqueting hall soundly.”

Tyki Mikk walked down to the group, consisting of Allen, Kanda, Lavi, Lenalee, Miranda and Howard Link. He leaned forward and took Miranda’s hand, kissing the top and resulting in a squeal for help from the other. Straightening up, he did the same to Lenalee who smiled politely albeit uncomfortably. “Shall we get going?” He said to the group as he stared at Allen. Hesitantly, he nodded as if it was directed at him and him alone, and Tyki held out his arm for Allen to take.

“Wha— _me?”_ He asked, embarrassed.

“Of course,” Tyki replied with his arm remaining at an angle in the air. Gingerly, Allen placed his hand on the crook of Tyki’s elbow and curled his arm around Tyki’s comfortably. Unbeknown to him, the group behind him seemingly worried about his passive nature in such a foreign environment.

Kanda huffed. “Let’s get a fucking move on already,” he said.

And Tyki did just that. Allen was awestruck at the marble tiles and Venetian glass windows, the very tops of each glass window an arch with a circular pattern across the beams of wood. Their footfalls clacked loudly across the marble as Tyki pointed out artefacts displayed around the hallways.

“This is something special,” Tyki murmured as he pointed at two large vases on either side of the enormous double doors. “Twin vases from the Ming Dynasty. Given to our Lord Millennium by none other than the Chinese president himself.”

Lavi surged forward. “This stuff is ancient,” he whispered, leaning in and inspecting the beautiful vases. “I’ve never seen them so well-preserved. What's the story?"

Tyki smirked boastfully. “So you understand,” he said, “the prince of an old China had twin vases made for him and his lover. Nobody knew if the vases would unite again, but someone found a way.” He pushed open the door and breathed in heavily.

“Earl,” he announced, “the guests from the Black Order have arrived." Thirteen chairs of the long, white banqueting table had been filled with people dressed smartly in black. Fourteen windows surrounded the room, six on each side and one at both the front and back. They each had arched stain glass windows at the top, presenting a silhouette of a person and a quality. _Wrath, Dream, Lust, Desire,_ Allen observed a few. “They're a comely bunch.”

Tyki Mikk led Allen Walker to a chair on one side of the table and sat the boy down next to where he was to sit. On Allen’s other side, Kanda immediately sat down and crossed his arms. Across from Allen sat a young girl. “Tyki,” she cooed, “who’s the boy? I like him.”

“My name is Allen Walker,” he said politely as he smiled. “I’m an intern.”

“An intern,” Tyki’s eyes twinkled, “so young. They haven't claimed you yet, then?”

“I’ll probably consider joining permanently since my guardian is one of the higher ups,” Allen explained. A quick tap on his thigh alerted him and he turned to his right and gave Kanda a questioning look. He returned it with a warning gaze, as if to say _‘don’t tell them anymore.’_

The man at the head of the table tapped his wine glass, silencing them. “Interesting,” the Millennium Earl, as he was known, mused. “I presume Mr Kanda Yuu has come?”

“That would be me,” Kanda said. 

A young man with white hair ( _‘like Allen’s,’_ Kanda thinks) and thin, black glasses sits forward in his chair. “You got my email, Mr Kanda, about the conference? I hope you’ll be attending.”

“Of course,” he replied curtly, “Mr…”

Wisely gasped. “It’s _Kamelot,_ Wisely Kamelot. I do all the digital stuff for the Noah corporation?”

“Never heard of you.”

“Come on, I even wrote my name at the end of the email.”

“Can't recall.”

“I only sent it yesterday morning,” Wisely said persistently, clearly agitated.

“Whatever, I’m coming.”

“Lovely,” the Earl said. “I don't want to keep you waiting, so I’d rather you’d eaten before we discuss trifling matters.” The Earl gave Kanda a quizzical look, dark hair shifting and wrinkled face curving up suggestively.

“Fine.” Immediately after the words left Kanda’s lips, well-dressed waiters and waitresses flooded through the large doors carrying platters of food. As the feast was laid on the table, the group from the Black Order stared in awe. 

“Do excuse us, we do like to play it down sometimes,” the Earl said.

“P-play it down,” Link said. “I’ve got to have a word with Lvellie about this.”

The girl opposite Allen giggled and stared at Allen the entire time as he meekly took plate after plate of the luxurious food. Kanda sat irritably on his right, refusing to drink anything but water and eating the absolute minimum. Although Allen was hardly a connoisseur of food and would vacuum up anything on a plate, he knew that the food was good. _And oh, was it good!_ Allen held this thought at the forefront of his mind as he watched Lenalee reach for another dumpling.

“My, my,” Tyki mused. “Boy, are you still hungry?”

Allen shook his head. “Oh no, I was just finishing up.”

“You should've finished up after the second plate, Walker,” Link butted in.

“Nonsense!” The Earl stood up, a delighted look on his face as his top hat slipped a little and his dark hair fell in front of his face. “A growing boy should be allowed to eat as much as he wishes. Mr Kanda, shall we begin? The rest of you can feel free to acquaintance yourselves.”

Kanda stood up sharply, and Allen caught his wrist. “What's this about?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, taking his wrist out of Allen’s grip. “But stay where you are.” And with that, he walked out the doors, the Earl following close behind. 

Immediately, the young girl sitting opposite Allen bounded towards him and sat in Kanda’s empty seat. “Heeey,” she cooed, “my name is Road! You want to play dolls with me, Allen?”

Allen chuckled nervously, “not right now, no thank you.”

Tyki tutted. “No good, boy, how could you say no to such a cute face?”

“What?!” A man stood up, the chain of his monocle fluctuating wildly. “You deny my Road her _fun and games?”_

 _“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T LIKE SWEETS?!”_ Someone else shouted.

“Nobody is talking about sweets, Skin,” a blonde-haired woman sighed. She pushed her shades up her nose.

Allen stood up from his seat. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he blurted out.

“And I shall be your guide,” Tyki insisted, guiding Allen out of the doors. The walk was silent as they went back the way they came, and up a long, winding staircase.

“These bathrooms are a little far,” Allen said. “I can't imagine what it must be like when you're desperate.”

“It's a nightmare,” Tyki exclaimed, “I’m glad we don't have a pet dog, or there would be double the mess to clean up."

He opened the door for Allen and guided him through an extravagant guest room to the large ensuite bathroom. “I’ll just be waiting out in the hall,” Tyki said as he left the room.

Allen splashed his face with water, sighing. The cooling effect was welcome in the heat of summer. He pulled off his glove and washed his hands, gently cleaning between the cracked, reddened fingers of his deformed arm. Allen slipped his glove back on after drying his hands and then walked out of the bathroom. It felt good to clear his mind after the disastrous cacophony of the banqueting hall.

Opening the bedroom door, Allen looked left and right and noticed he couldn't see Tyki in sight. He quickly left the room and immediately bumped into said man, tripping into the wall slightly.

“Sorry, boy, didn't see you there! You're too delicate for me to see,” he said.

“The fault is mine, Mr Mikk,” Allen replied. He widened his eyes in confusion as Tyki surged forward, pinning him against the wall. “Wha–”

Tyki took in a deep breath and inhaled Allen’s scent. “You’re too good for that company, boy,” he whispered. His hands trailed down from the wall to Allen’s forearms, tracing over his hands. The gesture was intimate, but not forceful. “Forgive me for scaring you.”

Eyes wide, Allen exhaled an inaudible breath, face flushed with fear. “I-It’s fine,” he said. “Please don't do that again.”

Tyki let up, hands no longer on Allen’s own as he lifted one of them to ruffle Allen’s hair. “Of course,” he smiled smugly. “But I mean what I said.” 

_‘You’re too good for that company, boy.’_ How did that have anything to do with him? The only thing he was good at in the office was stapling papers and sitting there for hours on end while Kanda glared at him through the glass. Silently, Allen followed Tyki through to the banqueting hall where everyone was beginning their clean up.

“–to meet you indeed! I do apologise for the absence of one of our company.”

“Perhaps another time,” Allen heard Kanda say.

“Oh, yes! And we do hope you consider our proposal. It is something we’re rather excited about.”

Kanda hummed. “We’ll see.” He turned on his heel, motioning to the exit. “We’re leaving.”

“I’m stuffed! I feel like I ate enough to feed an Allen,” Lavi said.

“Well, I guess I ate enough to feed two Allens,” Lenalee giggled.

“I’m not a unit of measurement,” Allen insisted.

Link sighed. “And my moles aren't funny.”

Laughing hysterically, Road ran circles in front of Link. _“Heeey,_ sir, I think your moles are totally funny.”

Tyki stepped forward. “Let’s not insult the guests, Road. Now then, allow me to escort you?”

Kanda shrugged. “Fine.”

The walk was silent and felt relatively short in passing compared to the route on the way there. The entire time, Allen could feel someone’s angered eyes on his back and he turned around nonchalantly only to meet eyes with Kanda. His eyes narrowed in warning at him. Along the large driveway, Allen patiently waited for the others to get in the limousine as he stood outside the door. Kanda tugged on his arm, pulling him to the side slightly. 

“I need to talk to you,” he murmured in his ear, gently pushing Allen into the limousine and getting in behind him.

“About what?” Allen asked, unaware of Lavi’s gaze watching the two calculatingly. 

“That guy,” Kanda whispered, eyes on the people seated around them as he refused to look at Allen. “The one you came back with. What did he do?”

Startled, Allen turned to him. “Wh–what? What do you mean?”

He scoffed. “Don't play dumb, beansprout, your face was red and your hair was a mess. You couldn't even look at the guy. He had his eyes on you the minute we came, I _knew_ he would do something. Did he touch you?”

 _“No!”_ Allen half-wailed, half-whispered. “He just—he put me against the wall and that was it, he didn't mean any harm.” And that was true. Tyki Mikk, while dubious, had no intention to force the boy into anything.

Kanda wasn't buying it. “I fucking knew I shouldn't have left. I should’ve—I fucking _told_ you to stay put.”

“I have a bladder, Kanda.” Which was true, but also a lie since he didn't even go to the bathroom to relieve himself.

He growled. “Don't let people touch you like that. It's degrading.”

“Mr Mikk didn't hurt me,” Allen insisted. “My head is killing me, Kanda, please leave me alone.”

Huffing, Kanda turned to face the other way, eyes trained on the rapidly changing setting as they sped down the road. Unbeknown to the duo, Lavi had heard what had transpired between them and was grinning maniacally. 

_‘Yuu’s like a totally different person,’_ he thought. It was interesting to see how a sweet, young boy like Allen had such an effect on the perpetually angry Kanda Yuu. The kid was magical.

Lavi sat back in his seat, one arm resting on Lenalee’s shoulder and the other behind his head as he observed the duo’s behaviour towards each other. It was weird, he knew, to observe the behaviours of your coworkers but Psychology had always been Lavi’s second favourite area of study (second to History, of course) and he had taken to doing it thoroughly. He eyed the small gap between the two, Allen’s sweater running against Kanda’s exposed forearm, black dress shirt’s sleeves bunched at the elbows. Allen’s knee was rubbing against Kanda’s, thighs creating friction between each other comfortably. 

_An interesting development._

—

“I’m exhausted,” Lenalee said, leaning to the left slightly as she stretched the fatigue out of her upper body. “What's the time now?”

“It’s way past six,” Miranda said, peering at her watch. “I want to go home.”

“I don't know about that,” Link murmured, eyeing the piles of paperwork strewn across Kanda’s desk through the glass wall. “It seems there's a lot of work to do.”

Kanda sighed, running a hand through the fringe. He paced quickly in the office, the evening sun making his furrowed brows and perpetual frown appear gentler than the reality of it. “Doesn't matter. I’ll deal with it,” he muttered half to himself as he waved his hand dismissively, “you guys head home for the day.”

“Yuu, are you sure? That's a lot of work for one person. Besides,” Lavi narrowed his eyes accusingly, “why are you being so nice? Doesn't have anything to do with what you spoke about back at lunch with the big guy, does it?”

Kanda groaned. “Don't call me that. I'm just telling you to call it a day. Now leave.”

Lavi blinked. “What did you do with the real Yuu?”

“Fuck off.”

“Never mind, he’s there.”

Sighing, he leaned on one of the desk cubicles and nodded towards the door. “I’ll cover for you,” he said begrudgingly, “but I won't if you keep fucking delaying so just leave already.” Lavi stared in disbelief before turning on his heel, bag in hand and jacket rolled up in the crook of his arm as he whistled his way down the hallway. Slowly, the others followed and Howard Link paused at the door.

“Don't overwork yourself,” he whispered. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Kanda sneered.

Link nodded, shutting the door behind him. He paused minutely. Kanda was an odd individual, who was actually genuinely caring but refused to admit it. Startled, he realised Allen didn't leave the room but decided not to chase it up since he didn't even work for Kanda’s department. Pulling a small notebook from his pocket, he made a note to write up a report for Kanda’s department as well as the banquet with the partner company to give in to Lvellie. Snapping the book shut, Howard Link walked down the hallway and entered the stairwell, heavy, grey door closing silently behind him.

–

“Go home.”

“No.”

“Technically, you don't even _work_ here. Go the fuck home.”

“I don't want to.”

_“Beansprout.”_

An irritated groan. “I said _no!_ Don't you remember what I promised you earlier? I said I would help with the paperwork.”

Kanda clicked his tongue. Yes, he did remember that, but he didn't need a fatigued beansprout losing consciousness in the middle of the paperwork because Kanda sure as hell was going to leave his ass dead asleep in the building all night.

“I don't care. Let me do my own work.”

Allen pouted. “You bought me lunch. And a sweet pastry.”

“And I'm never fucking doing it again.” Kanda walked over to his private office and shut the door behind him. Allen followed in quietly, shutting the door.

“Fine, just let me watch so I can learn.”

Scoffing, Kanda sat in his chair. “You're incompetent.”

“That's why I want to learn.”

“You have a lot to learn, beansprout,” he whispered.

“Then let me,” Allen said quietly. “I don't want to be left in the dust.”

Groaning, Kanda hung his head back in his chair. “Fine,” he said, eyes not moving off the ceiling. “Go get a chair.”

Hurriedly, Allen ran out and came back heaving his tacky desk chair, placing it directly besides Kanda’s at the desk.

“Let’s just sort out the stuff into approvals and rejections. That's the easiest thing,” Kanda said. 

Bitterly, Allen began rifling through the papers and observing the coloured stamps on each one, sorting them into two piles. “So,” he said, slipping two sheets into the approval pile, “what was the meeting today about?”

Kanda halted, stapler poised in position over a small amount of papers. Hesitantly, he stapled them together and picked up Mugen. “It was nothing,” Kanda said as he signed his name at the bottom of the papers. “We have meetings and stuff like this all the time, just never without notice like this.”

Meekly, Allen looked up over the papers he held in both hands. _“Reaaally_ now? Because it seemed to me like none of your guys had ever been there before,” he pointed out.

“You're right,” Kanda said as he put the stapler down on the pile. “That's why I was so uneasy. We’ve never fucking had lunch at their damn house before. It was uncalled for.”

“I see,” Allen whispered as he sorted the papers out. “Does it mean anything?”

Kanda hesitated. “Yes— _no._ Maybe.”

“Probably, then, Mr Kanda.” Allen concluded.

“Don't get smart with me, beansprout. And what did I tell you about calling me Mr Kanda? It's weird.” He turned in his chair and picked up the stapler again, scanning through the sheets he held in his free hand.

Allen tilted his head to the side, perplexity prominent. “Actually, you told me not to call you that in public. We’re in the office now, Mr Kanda.”

“Just call me Kanda,” he muttered. “I don't give a shit.”

 _‘Kanda,’_ he wanted to say. _‘You're a fucking douche.’_ But of course, he’d rather not lose the internship he actually enjoyed very much. And now that he thought about it, Kanda _wasn't_ a douche. The guy paid for over a half a thousand dollars worth of his food for lunch, and Kanda couldn't count anyone that had ever done that for him (save Cross, although he had no other choice). His little lunchtime escapade with Kanda wasn't completely bad, if he was honest. The man was surprisingly caring although he would probably rather pay someone to run him over than admit it.

“Thank you for buying me food,” Allen blurted out. Kanda slammed his stapler down on top of a pile of papers, the heavy sound resonating through the room.

“Are you still hung up on that? It's not like it's ever going to happen again,” he said, instinctively reaching for the coffee cup on his desk. Kanda immediately realised the cup was cold and empty, having been filled hours ago. “Besides, I got something out of it too.”

“Huh?” Allen looked up. “Like what? Impending debt?”

“Nah,” Kanda replied. “You're actually not bad company.”

Allen glanced over a paper, sorting it into the rejection pile. “What makes you say that?”

Kanda shrugged, putting his mug back onto the desk. “I don't know. Get off my back.”

“You started it,” Allen glared.

“And now I’m ending it.”

Huffing, Allen pulled his chair closer to Kanda. They silently went at the paperwork for hours on end, the subtle nuances of Allen moving papers in tandem with Kanda’s smooth signing, filing and stapling making the atmosphere in the office comfortable. The gentle orange of the evening sun had gradually faded away to greys, blacks and dark blues along with the echoing rush hour traffic dying down. At some point, Kanda had reached for the lamp by his desk and flicked it on, illuminating only the desk in front of the two and each other.

Yawning, Allen filed the last of Kanda’s paperwork into a folder before collapsing on the desk. “What—” he yawned, mouth opening wide and revealing his wet, pink tongue and small teeth, “—time is it?”

Kanda, equally as tired, reached for his phone. “It’s just past eleven,” he said as he reached for his _goddamn_ empty coffee cup for the millionth time only to remember it wasn't filled. “You need to head home. This is probably way past your curfew.”

Allen giggled into the curve of his elbow, his energy half there as he drifted in and out of consciousness. “Cross won't care.”

“My limbs feel like lead,” Kanda whispered as he attempted to get up from his seat. Allen reached out and grabbed his bare wrist. Curiously, Kanda looked back at him with half-closed eyes.

“How’re you so—” Allen yawned, “—done in when you're not the one with the crappy chair.” He pulled Kanda forward in his chair so that he awkwardly leaned on the desk beside Allen.

“Idiot, what's it with you and the chairs?” Kanda groaned. “Do you want to sit in mine or somethin’?”

“Can I?” Allen asked, turning his head as he looked over at the man leaning next to him, blinking owlishly as he tried to stay awake.

“Tsk. Yeah, but we should—” Kanda _yawned,_ “—go home.” Evidently, Kanda didn't feel like going home as he slumped forward on top of the few remaining papers on the surface of the desk.

Allen quickly moved onto Kanda’s chair, resting his head in his arms. “Move up,” he whined, “I’m gonna fall off.”

“You're too fat, beansprout.” Kanda chuckled sleepily.

“Am not. Look—we’ll just share it.” The fit was, needless to say, uncomfortable. Allen’s leg ended up on top of Kanda’s as they shifted awkwardly and half of his body rested on the sturdy form of the Japanese man. Allen could feel Kanda’s hair lick along the back of his neck as he leaned back into the form behind him.

“Oi,” the elder man groaned. “What are you getting comfortable for?”

“Please shut up, Kanda.”

All Kanda could do was click his tongue once again as he languorously picked his jacket off the arm of the chair and draped it over them both. “We need to go home.”

Allen grunted, turning into the man and nuzzling into his shoulder. “Don't care. Just—” he yawned _again,_ “stay.”

Huffing, Kanda lazily wrapped an arm around the stupid beansprout’s waist to give his hands some placement, fingers curling around the boy’s slim waist.

“Whatever,” he said, fingers resonating with the warmth of Allen’s body where he held him. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

Allen hummed. “Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> regarding tyki: i characterise tyki as someone who may be very touchy-feely and suggestive, as we know in canon. however, almost certainly i am sure that all his seductive smiles and touches are never with bad intentions! i don't think tyki would force anyone into anything they weren't comfortable with. that's why i didn't use tyki as an excuse for kanda to rescue allen in distress blah blah blah bc that's just a completely mashed up perception of him if i'm being honest. i hope we can agree to disagree!
> 
> also i do hope someone caught the parallels between kanda and allens ways of thinking,,like how they both constantly seem to say "its not like it'll happen again" aaaaaaaaa the dismay
> 
> anyway, does anyone else think this is moving too fast? i think i just wanna write more romance lmfao so self indulgent //hit
> 
> thanks for reading and i shall see you this weekend, probably? maybe i will actually post on a sunday like ive been planning for once instead of being such a fucking slacker. (also how long are these notes i talk so much omg)
> 
> saaaayOnara weebs ♥


	4. good morning, sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> howard link tries to be intimidating and lavi gets his ass beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well. merry christmas! 
> 
> i apologise for being a shitty author who can't keep to schedules, honestly i preferred when i did weekly updates because it forced me to write which i really really need? i honest to god need someone to shout at me on a weekly basis lmao kanda why can't u be real boi
> 
> idk what really happens in this chapter but hey ive had it written for a while i didn't have aNY time to edit it bc haha!!!!!! uni fucking sucks!!!!! 
> 
> but it's christmas and i don't wanna keep people waiting until the new year, and i hope i can get another chapter out before then ww hell ye

The entire day had been completely awkward for Allen Walker the minute he woke up with the sun shining in his face, which he thought was the result of him forgetting to draw his curtains, and the pain of his back on the hard mattress. Or what would've been his mattress had he actually gone home that night. Instead, Allen Walker found himself awake on a very _human-shaped_ mattress. Eyes fluttering shut, Allen ignored the prospect of facing the day and instead curled into the _mattress,_ moaning quietly as he revelled in the warmth underneath him and nuzzling his face into fabric. He could ignore the day, he thinks.

“Urgh... _what?”_

_...Or not._

Haphazardly, Allen Walker leapt off the leather desk chair and stupidly tripped over Kanda’s jacket, which he was previously wrapped up in. He fell straight into the desk, hitting his forehead on the edge of the wood in his mad rush to the floor. Rolling onto his back, he groaned in pain as he sat up. Blinded by the sun streaming through the windows, he raised an arm to shield his eyes as he gazed up at form in the chair.

“Will you fucking _chill?!”_

Allen’s mouth quivered uncontrollably with shock and fear as he stared up at the piercing yet hazy eyes of his department chief and superior, Kanda Yuu. He scrambled back a few paces, eyes wide and clear with disbelief.

“D-Did we—”

Sighing, Kanda sat up in the chair. “Are you an idiot? We just slept together.”

Discreetly, Allen raised his hand to his lower back and pressed down gently. 

_“On the chair,_ idiot.” Kanda bit out, rolling his eyes. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at his black trousers. They were wrinkled under the weight of Allen’s body, and were sprinkled with creamy beige fibres from his jumper. Kanda sighed, picking a few fibres off his trousers and black dress shirt and promptly trying to forget about Allen on the floor. 

Allen flushed with embarrassment, meekly curling up on the floor and wrapping his arms around his knees. Because, _‘holy shit I slept on another man, and not just any man, my boss,’_ and so Allen visibly cringed as he hid his face in the crook of his elbow, blush increasing at the thought. He remembered moaning in delight and nuzzling his face into Kanda, and God, wanting to die was an understatement. Because Allen Walker wanted to be run over repeatedly by a car, thrown into the ocean, caught up in a boat’s propellers and eaten by piranhas. He picked up the abandoned jacket and buried his face into it, rubbing his cheeks into it aggressively as if to scrub the memories away.

“Oi, beansprout,” Kanda called out, “what are you doing to my jacket?” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he stared down at the younger boy, who was nuzzling into his jacket.

Immediately, Allen flung the jacket off and dropped his legs down, throwing it into his lap as he cringed in abhorrence. Embarrassingly enough, Allen could smell Kanda on him as a result of spending an entire night pressed up against the Japanese man, their intertwined scents of strong coffee, plants, baked goods and sugary delicacies. He pressed down on the sleeve of his jumper and looked up at Kanda shyly.

The older man huffed in an irritated fashion. “Why are you acting like a virgin the morning after?” 

Allen’s mouth dropped open. “Wh-what’s your problem?”

“Forget it,” Kanda said. “And get off the floor already.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, checking the time. It was just past half-seven in the morning, and Kanda and Allen had until nine before they were meant to be at work, where they had stayed the night. Why didn't the janitor come? Wouldn't they have woken them up so they could go home?

Yawning, Allen reached his gloved hand to Kanda, using his right hand to cover his mouth. “Please give me a hand, Kanda.”

Kanda promptly ignored him in favour of typing something out on his phone. Scoffing, Allen pouted cutely which only made Kanda stare because he looked a little too cute, not that Kanda would admit it. 

“Kandaaa,” he groaned, “Kanda please.”

“No.” He put his phone face down on the desk and then turned the chair to face Allen, staring directly down at the teenager on the floor. Said teenager got on his knees in front of Kanda, grunting through his pouted pink lips.

“Screw you, Kanda,” he bit out, struggling to keep himself from smiling.

“Eat shit, beansprout.” 

Allen pressed forward and rested his hands on the leather chair’s seat in between Kanda’s knees. “What's the time?” 

“Time for us to—” a volcanic rumble echoed in the quiet office, “—get breakfast.” Kanda narrowed his eyes. “What the actual fuck is with your stomach?”

Allen glared back. “It’s not my fault that my metabolism is so high! It's always been like that.”

“You have a problem,” Kanda sighed as he hung his head back in his chair, hiding his face in his hand.

Allen hummed delightfully. _“Mmm,_ breakfast sounds wonderful.”

The two remained as they were quietly, talking as they remained blissfully unaware of the brown leather loafers making their way up the stairwell soundly. The double doors opened and the person walked down the office, halting at the sound of Kanda’s rumbling growl. Another breathy, hasty sound was heard and the person perked their ears up suspiciously as they walked towards the department chief’s office, looking through the glass. Kanda Yuu could be seen at the chair of the desk, head hung back and hand over his face as he groaned. Over the top of the desk, a head of white hair could barely be seen below the dark wood of the desk between Kanda’s knees. The person hurriedly opened the door and stalked in.

_“What is going on in here?!”_

Kanda immediately dropped his hand and sat up straight in his chair, eyes narrowed at the figure. Similarly, Allen looked up in confusion from his place of the floor.

“Hm?” He said, dropping Kanda’s shoelace. “Oh, it's Link!”

“Walker,” Howard Link said through gritted teeth, “what were you doing?”

Allen looked down and fiddled around with something Link couldn't see before looking back at him. “I was tying Kanda’s shoe,” he said. “He can't do it properly. He doesn't even do _bunny ears.”_

“I do them just fine,” Kanda spat, “and screw the ears, I don't want to think about that damn Lavi every time I tie my shoes.”

Allen smiled, mouth curled upwards in mirth as he let out a small peal of laughter. “Kanda, leave him alone. Anyway, Link, what did you think we were doing?”

Link cleared his throat, embarrassed. How could he calmly tell Allen that he thought he was doing the— _cough_ —unmentionable with Kanda? It's not like he could casually say, _‘It's nothing big, Walker, I just thought you were blowing him,’_ because not only was that incredibly unbecoming of someone with a position such as himself, it was just too personal.

“I-I thought you were injured,” he said slowly, making each word count, “by Mr Kanda.”

Allen cocked his head to the side. “I don't even work here,” he said, “if Kanda hurt me I’d hurt him back.”

The Japanese man scoffed. “I’d _kill_ you,” he said. “And I’d force Lavi to eat your body."

“At least I taste good. But anyway, Link, what are you doing here so early?”

Link swallowed. “I was here on Mr Lvellie’s orders to write up a report,” he said. Kanda and Allen didn't have to know that having commented interest on Kanda’s department in his separate report, Lvellie demanded more surveillance of it. “But I could ask the same for you, Mr Walker. You said it yourself; you do not work here. Why are you here so early?”

Allen chuckled nervously. “I just—I was going to—”

“He was going to get breakfast with me,” Kanda said, “since I had something to discuss with him about his internship.” Allen looked over at Kanda questioningly and was met with a look that dared him to object. 

And so, Allen just nodded. “Yeah, I—” Allen’s stomach screeched in neglect, “— _am really hungry, so can we please leave, Kanda?”_ He rested his hand on Kanda’s knee as he pulled himself up onto his feet, grabbing Kanda’s bare wrist and taking him along with him.

“Is that so?” Howard Link raised his eyebrows in suspicion. “You see, I was becoming quite hungry myself. Why don't we go together? If you wouldn't mind having me.”

Kanda and Allen shared a look. “I’d like to have you come,” Allen said quietly.

“Tsk, you're buying your own food,” Kanda added as he stalked off towards the door. Allen followed behind him like a lost puppy. “Where are we going? Coffee shop?”

“That diner was nice,” Allen mused.

“May I suggest a café at the nearby shopping district? It's in walking distance, and we have plenty of time before we actually have to be here,” Link said.

Allen hummed excitedly. “Of course! You're a lot less uptight than I thought, Link.”

“Perhaps,” Link said, “but please stop staring at my moles.”

“Force of habit,” Allen chuckled sheepishly.

Kanda was out the door, hand in his pocket as he pulled his jacket over his shoulder. Link and Allen soon followed, deep in discussion about dogs; Link _knew_ that German Shepherds were much cuter than Golden Retrievers, but Allen digressed. 

 

—

 

“Cut to the chase. What did you want?” Kanda bluntly asked. It was just him and Link sitting at the table for four, empty plates covering every visible part of the table’s surface (all but two belonging to one kid with a _black hole_ for a stomach). Allen had just excused himself to go to the bathroom, leaving the perfect opportunity for Kanda to ask the question burning in his mind.

Link took a long drink from his mug and stared hard at Kanda. “Direct as always, I see. How was your meal?”

“Cut the crap, Link.” Kanda stared him down.

“It's about Mr Walker.” At this, Kanda froze. He inwardly flinched, although on the outside he remained impassive, stoic under pressure. Of all the people to be chased up on this, Kanda dreaded the fact that it had to be Link the most. 

_‘Of course,’_ he thought to himself. _‘Of all fucking people it had to be the one with direct links to the higher ups.’_ Kanda knew his entire reputation was staked on his next few words. All this for a fucking beansprout? It's not like the kid even meant anything to Kanda.

“What about him?” He replied calmly.

Link stared at him, before speaking slowly. “Aren't you a bit too close to the cliff’s edge?”

“I don't know what you mean,” he said, unwavering and without batting an eye.

Sighing irritably, Link put down his mug albeit a bit too harshly. “You told me to cut the crap, and I only ask the same of you. He calls you _Kanda._ No respected title, nothing. He touches you a lot, and you don't seem to mind. You were talking together quietly in the limousine yesterday too.”

“Who the fuck are you, _Sherlock?_ That doesn't mean anything, Link.”

“Maybe not,” Link said quietly, taking another sip from his mug, “but what about last night?”

Kanda stilled. “What?”

“Mr Kanda, the both of you didn't go home last night...is that right? You're both wearing the same clothes, and they're _wrinkled._ He was in your office this morning too, for no apparent reason it seems.”

“Look,” Kanda said, lowering his voice so that only Link could hear him. “Nothing went on between me and the beansprout.”

“Are you sure?” He raised his eyebrow. “You have a nickname for him, Mr Kanda.”

Kanda waved his hand dismissively, looking away from Link’s suspicious gaze. “It’s an insult.”

“Mr Kanda,” he put his mug down again, “I won't report this. But whatever is going on, I ask you to reconsider it. You know that workplace relationships aren't allowed, and you know the consequences. Furthermore, he’s a _kid—”_

“Above legal age, Link.”

“Why would that matter unless you were involved with him?”

Kanda said nothing.

“Either way, I was ordered by Mr Lvellie to watch over your department. Don't make me say things I shouldn't have to.”

It was silent between them for a few minutes until Allen pranced back to the table happily.

“Sorry I took so long! There's never any toilet paper in public bathrooms so I had to wait until someone else came in,” he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, “and it was _really_ awkward.”

Link just nodded while Kanda ignored him.

“Speaking of awkward,” Allen continued, “why are you both so tense?” He sat down in his seat next to Kanda and put his hand on his bare forearm, leaning into him slightly.

At the sight of Link’s raised eyebrow, Kanda tore his arm from Allen’s grip. “We spoke about taxes,” Kanda said, “I fucking _hate_ taxes.”

“Cross never pays taxes,” Allen said as he stared at Kanda weirdly. What was that about? The guy never complained before. “But don't tell him I said that, alright?”

“I won't tell him,” Link agreed, staring directly at Kanda. “I promise.”

Something told Kanda he was referring to something else.

 

—

 

Other than Howard Link and the raised eyebrows of his supervisor, Komui Lee, nobody had questioned the fact that Kanda seemed to be wearing the same shirt as the day before until Lavi called out to him later in the afternoon.

“Dude, Yuu, didn't you wear that yesterday?”

“So what?” Kanda scoffed.

“That's not like you,” Lavi said questioningly.

 _“I fucking look good in this shirt,”_ he hissed venomously.

Lavi simply shrugged, getting back into his seat as Kanda stood by the copier, waiting for his documents to be done. Thankfully, there wasn't much work to do since Kanda and Allen had slaved away the night before. Oh, did he regret falling asleep beside Allen last night. Not only did he have to endure an awkward conversation with his adoptive father _(“You stayed so late last night,Yuu, you hard-working boy! I saw your car in the parking lot when I was leaving!”)_ but he had to ignore the stupid meek gaze of the intern the entire day. 

Hastily, he tapped his fingers on the top of the copier as he eyed the sheets being ejected by the machine and into the tray, aware of his fluency and the time he had until Tiedoll came to see him.

“Can you photocopy this for me?” Lavi’s grandfather had queried. He heard the shuffle of footsteps as someone made their way behind him. Hesitantly, Kanda turned around and stared directly at Allen, who stared back in mild discomfort. 

“The fuck are you looking at?” He growled.

Allen scoffed. “You looked at me first, Kanda! What's your problem?”

“Then stop staring back.”

Allen huffed and turned away, foot tapping against the grey carpet as he waited for Kanda to finish up. “Why were you even looking at me in the first place?”

“Because you look good today,” Kanda said sarcastically, which made Allen flinch. He had simply taken off his jumper to avoid suspicion, which had more or less worked for him since pretty much everyone wore a plain white button-up. 

“Shut up! Don't say things you don't mean!”

Kanda rolled his eyes. “So I should say something I do mean? _You're a fucking beansprout.”_

“Well you’re the woman here!”

 _“And who the fuck are you calling a woman?!”_ Kanda yelled, slamming his fist on top of the copier. In a clunky fashion, the copier seized up and spat out a sheet of paper before creaking eerily beneath the lid and halting movement completely. Kanda stared in disbelief before turning to Allen, who was just as shell-shocked, and then back to the copier.

“Uh,” Allen murmured, “I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but I think you broke it.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Definitely broke it.”

“I fucking mean it.”

“You may even have put it out of service forever.”

_“Seriously.”_

“Did I hear an angel singing?”

 _“Cut it out!”_ Kanda shouted as he spun on his heel and began to chase Allen around the room. In a rush, Allen weaved in between the cubicles with a grin on his face and Kanda hot on his heels as he pulled a desk chair behind him to slow _that demon_ down a little. Amidst the sounds of his blood rushing in his ears and his fiercely pounding heart, he could hear Miranda screeching Kanda’s name over and over, and Lavi laughing like a hyena whilst a door opened up. He leapt over a desk clumsily, landing on the tip of his left foot first, which was a big mistake as he lost his balance and tumbled into a desk, sending the contents rolling off the sides and onto the dulled floor. Cringing, he brought a hand to his bruised jaw and cowered into the leg of the desk as he looked up at the shadow looming over him, scissors in hand. 

“W-wait! I don't want to—”

 _“Yuu, what are you doing?!”_ Someone cried out in pure fear and prevalent anguish. 

“Shit,” Kanda muttered. 

Frantically, footsteps crashed along the _black-grey-black interior,_ diminishing in volume as Allen felt its presence come closer. 

“Please don't hurt anyone anymore, my sweet boy!” A man with extraneous facial hair cried, stout fingers clinging to Allen’s poor shirt sleeve as he heaved him off the floor. 

“I didn’t—” Kanda stopped. “I’m not your boy.” Nonetheless, Kanda leaned forward, making Allen step to the side nervously as Kanda simply placed the scissors back into the desk tidy. 

“You must forgive my son,” the man said hurriedly as he brazenly brushed Allen off, fingers grasping the fabric of his trousers, his shirt, and then moving to caress the length of his jaw in inspection. “He doesn't communicate very well. In fact, as far as I know he was being rather friendly to you!” 

Allen shuddered. “If he was being friendly I don't want to be on his bad side.” 

“Too late,” Kanda said.

Promptly ignoring him, Allen continued. “Son?”

“Oh, forgive me,” his fingers curled around Allen’s wrist a little too firmly as he came to shake his hand, “Froi Tiedoll. Little Yuu over there is my son.”

“I’m not your son.” Kanda said flatly.

“Well, of course you’re not,” Lavi cut in, smiling smugly, “because who would _willingly_ father a kid like you?” It seemed like Lavi knew what to expect, as he ran out the room as soon as the last word left his lips and Kanda took off straight after him.

Tiedoll chuckled with a light cadence at the deafening thumps and high-pitched yells coming from the beyond the room and down the stairwell. “He never changes,” he began, having wiped a mock tear from his eye, “my little Yuu. What's your name, my boy?”

Allen shuffled his feet quietly. “Allen Walker, sir. I’m an intern in this department.”

“Ah! Young one,” Tiedoll cried, “I do hope my son is treating you well. Like I said, he doesn’t do so well in social environments.”

“And that's what confuses me,” Allen said. “He has such a high position in the company, but he has a terrible attitude, no manners, a foul tongue—”, he took a deep breath. “Forgive me for being so blunt but... _how did he even do it?”_

“While it’s true that with his attitude the only job Yuu could probably get is one as a high school mascot—” he paused to laugh at his own joke, “he has plenty of skills! A great worker, just not much of a talker! My son! My precious, lovely son! Did I mention that I put in good word for him?” 

_Ah,_ Allen thinks, _so that's how it is._

“I’m a higher up too, you know!”

_Right._

“But like I said, is he treating you well?”

Allen shook himself out of his stupor and turned to Tiedoll. “I mean...as well as he is able to, I guess? He buys me lunch, but he also shouts me a lot. Which is completely unfair, because I contribute a lot to his paperwork for someone who’s, you know, _not even working here.”_

“He buys you lunch?” Tiedoll cried out, and whether in pain or joy was something Allen couldn't tell (nor was he sure he wanted to tell), “I hope you're treating my boy the same! He’s very nice on the inside.” 

“A little _too_ inside, I presume.”

The door was pushed open and a haggard Lavi was thrown through, followed by Kanda. He held the poor redhead by the shirt collar, fingers clenched firmly into the deep blue fabric, leaving creases between every indentation of his knuckles. 

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Yuu! If it were possible, I’d be _dying_ to father you, just like I’m _dying right now!_ At least if I fathered you, you would be less of a brute— _ack!”_

“Don't you ever learn?! Don't call me that!”

“Yuu, please don't treat people like that! You’ll destroy him,” Tiedoll called out.

Fingers untangling from Lavi’s collar, Kanda pushed Lavi into a nearby chair. “Sit right fucking there,” he said quietly, yet venomously, _“and stay right fucking there.”_

Lavi nodded aggressively. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Kanda asked Tiedoll, fingers drumming on the back of Lavi’s seat, much to his chagrin. 

“Let's step into the office, may we?” He laughed quietly at Allen. “This is adult stuff.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Allen replied, “for nobody in particular.” And with that, he turned on his heels, stepping over the damage dealt by Kanda previously like debris from an earthquake.

Tiedoll cleared his throat. “In the office, then?”

 

—

 

“That's what this is about?”

“It's important, Yuu! You're the only one they invited, and you told me on the phone, even _you_ don't know what to do.”

Kanda sighed in frustration. He regretted calling Tiedoll that night, telling him about the email for the conference. In hindsight, he should have expected his stupid adoptive father to overreact and coddle him like a child with a runny nose. 

“Yuu, are you ignoring me? That's no way to behave.”

“Fuck off,” he replied, “I don't want to deal with this today.”

“Don't be a child, Yuu.”

“Pray tell, asshole, what's your brilliant idea?” Today was a day for limits to be pushed.

Tiedoll smiled proudly, leaning back from the desk as he stared down at Kanda, who sat comfortably in his chair. “Why don't you take one of your good friends along?”

Kanda blew air out of his nose. “What are those?”

_“Yuu."_

“I don't fucking want to!”

“Lavi is a nice, young lad. He cleans up very well too! Have you thought about bringing him?” Tiedoll paraded around the office airily, fingers coming up to stroke on the leaf of a plant by the window. 

“Idiot runs his mouth too much,” Kanda sighed, “and don't touch that.”

“That could work to your advantage, though. He’s an incredibly quick thinker, right? Definitely a good speaker. You could just sit back all evening and let him handle the questions.”

“Hmm,” Kanda murmured, “or I could run him through with a knife.”

Tiedoll gently pulled on the plant, observing each leaf with interest. “How about Lenalee? She's an excellent role model and perfectly respected. She's cute too, Yuu! Besides, aren't you on great terms with her?”

“Not a bad idea,” Kanda said, “but Komui would definitely want to come too. And Lenalee won't let me be idle.”

“You know, Yuu, I'd like to paint this someday," he takes his fingers off the plant, “because this plant is very well taken care of.” 

“And?”

“I feel like this proves you don't have any friends.”

Kanda threw his pen case at him.

“Get out.”

“Yuu!” A stack of sheets was thrown at him, papers flying astray like hats at a graduation. 

“Get out.” He repeated.

“Before I leave,” Tiedoll pleaded. “Have you thought about taking Allen? I met him not long ago, and he's just an intern, but he's a wonderful little gentleman! Very cute, too.”

“He would be _awful_ to take,” Kanda winced. “He's got that weird hair, and the glove! Not to mention that _goddamn face,_ have you fucking lost your mind?!”

Tiedoll cleared his throat. “If you ask me, it’s quite charming. Besides, aren't you friends?”

Kanda blanked. “The fuck? Since when?”

“He told me you buy him lunch. That's miles more than you'd do for anyone else.”

“Oh, would you ju—fuck off. I’m taking a nap, so get out.”

“Sweet dreams, little Yuu! I hope you can make a decision in time.” Tiedoll shut the door behind him, but Kanda was furious and felt like slamming a door so he opened it again and forced it shut with a _slam._

Running his fingers through his fringe, he sighed irritably and peered through his dark hair and out the glass wall discreetly. Sure, he was mad, but he had a job to do and part of that was making sure others were doing their part. Miranda and a few others were crowded around the now destroyed copier, and Lavi was still sitting in the chair Kanda left him in. He had his mouth open wide, laughing like a maniac at what was most likely his own joke. 

Fuck Lavi. 

_Fuck Lavi,_ the idiot who was in an enthusiastic conversation with Allen, who was also laughing but to a lesser degree than his exuberant companion. His mouth opened into a laugh, and he was all white smiles and pink lips and pink cheeks and a _pink tongue that flicked out behind his teeth and he hates him, he hates him so much._ He hates Allen Walker.

Allen had only been at the office for a short amount of time, but it was enough for Lavi to pull his arm around him and comically make him sit in his lap, for Miranda to treat him like a sweet son and smile proudly at his efforts and Kanda didn't _get it._ Because if he could get through the years without Lenalee popping sweets onto his tongue or Reever pulling up an extra mug of coffee just for him, the kid could too. 

And he was sick of it, sick of it all getting to him because nobody could worm their way into his consciousness like a parasite in a lone cell and nobody could get so comfortable with Kanda as quick as him. 

He had been staring, he realised, and as soon as that gentle, young face (god damnit, did he skip the stages of puberty?) turned to see his he pulled the blind down so fast his wrist clicked. Kanda stalked back to his desk with an eerily calm demeanour and sat down, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into his temple. His knees still vaguely ached from the constant bend and his entire left side felt a little weird after the press of Allen’s body, but he had to admit that the previous night with Allen was the most comfortable sleep he'd had in awhile. 

Allen was good company, anyway. He made Kanda feel comfortable, albeit furious, but he was good company. Warily, he eyed the calendar, lost in thought over what to do before he realised all this contemplation was a _fucking waste of his life._ He wasn't a bride on _Say Yes To The Dress,_ for God’s sake, and Kanda cursed the fact that he couldn't seem to come to a decision that wasn't pointing towards that loser intern with the ugly hair. 

Which was a little bit cute, but that was beside the point when Allen had the personality of a piece of gum stuck under your shoe. Kanda himself wasn't one to talk, but the kid did get on his nerves half the time. Considering the other half they spent _actually_ getting along and Kanda _actually_ liked it and their relationship _actually_ progressed, Kanda thought it would be a more than relatively decent idea to bring the brat along. 

_‘Get a taste of the real world,’_ he thought to himself. _‘God knows he needs it.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i have a rough plan of this story but it's all just GAYGAYGAY FEAT. FAKE PLOT 
> 
> and idek how long this is gonna be but for my sake!!!! and for all of yours this story will have an ending....i will always come back for it no matter how many THREE FCKING MONTH breaks i may take omg @ myself don't u fuckign do that shit again
> 
> my twitter is @crystaitype im literally aLWAYS ONLINE pls talk to me abt yullen and neaH and link and neah and neah and neah? or just shout at me to update this fic whatever my life sucks i need smth to look forward to before that untimely end

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it, kudos and comments would be nice, but i suppose reading the entire thing is enough to make me happy :>
> 
> let it be said that nothing is set in stone...and im a very busy person, but i will try to make time for this fic bc i really want to finish it!! so i will try to update every weekend, by sunday, i guess. if i stray from this too much i may just make updates once every other week so i can have time to catch up bc by then i have no excuse lol


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